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Tho fickle Fortune has deceived me,
(She pormis'd fair and perform'd but ill);
Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me,
Yet I bear a heart shall support me still.
I'll act with prudence as far 's I'm able,
But if success I must never find,
Then come, Misfortune, I bid thee welcome-
I'll meet thee with an undaunted mind!
Poem Index
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