Adriani Morientis ad Animam Suam

Poor little, pretty, flutt'ring Thing,
Must We no longer live together?
And dost Thou prune thy trembling Wing,
To take thy Flight Thou know'st not whither?

Thy humorous Vein, thy pleasing Folly,
Lyes all neglected, all forgot:
And pensive, wav'ring, melancholy,
Thou dread'st and hop'st Thou know'st not what.
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Emperor Hadrian
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