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Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance every night, He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bitc.
His frisking was at evening hours,
For then he loft his fear,
Or when a ftorm drew ncar.
Eight years and five round-rolling moons
He thus faw fteal away, Dozing out all his idle noons,
And every night at play.
I kept him for his humour' sake,
For he would oft beguile My heart of thoughts that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.