Fragmentary Ending Of A Poem II

Then do not Cloe do not more
Boast what success youve found
Tis pride to tell your conquests ore
Tis cruelty to wound.
These are the ills which Beauty breeds
its blisses woud you give
With pitty all your slaves besides
& me with love relieve.

poem by Thomas Parnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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