Written Upon The Cover Of A Blotting Book

Blank tho' I be, within you'll find Relics of th' enraptured mind: Where truth and fable, mirth and wit, Are safely here deposited. The placid, furious, envious, wise, Impart to me their secresies; Here hidden thoughts in blotted line Nor sybil can the sense divine; Lethe and I twin sisters be-- Then, stranger, open me and see.

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