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Charles Stewart sent me these lines -- Brighton Febry 19th 1802 No 'twas not love in Laura's Bow'r Which made me oft consume the day She knew my heart own'd Julia's pow'r She knew my [[underline]] heart [[/underline]] was far away.-- Our souls but joy'd a soul to meet With which itself could well agree; Greif made to me, her soothing sweet And pity [[underline]] made her [[/underline]] cherish me.-- 'Twas not because its purer white From scythian snow wd gain the prize Which made me for whole hours delight To watch her Bosom fall, & rise.--
