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4 Her magic wand & mystic spell Let wond'ring crowds adore She's rendered me (Oh strange to tell) Much [[underline]] vainer than of yore. [[/underline]] 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, Or carry smiles, & sunshine in my face When [[underline]] discontent sits heavy [[/underline]] at my heart. Who never lov'd ne'er suffer'd, he feels nothing Who nothing feels, but for himself alone; And when we feel for others reason reels O'er loaded from her path, & "man runs mad. As love alone can exquisitely bless" Love only feels the marvellous of pain,
