The aim of Transcribe Georgian Papers is to produce useable text documents of the manuscript materials and not critical editions. Please be aware this document may contain errors in the transcription.
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Full from the East the beams of morn emerge, The silver clashing of the distant Oar, The restless murmur of the folding surge, Along the wide stretch'd yellow winding shore. Restore a transcient quiet to my Soul And bring each faded image to my view I feel unbiass'd as my numbers roll The quick sensation language never drew. Still in my troubl'd bosom, ever dear The fond impressions of my Lesbia flow, Unmann'd; my feelings vented in a tear, Hung on her charms, & gave a pause to woe My wandring mind still settl'd on her breast There, vex'd [[underline]] no more, for ever sinks to rest. [[/underline]]
