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TO MISS KELLY.
You are not, Kelly, of the common strain, That stoop their pride and female honor down To please that many-headed beast the town, And vend their lavish smiles and tricks for
gain; By fortune thrown amid the actors' train, You keep your native dignity of thought; The plaudits that attend you come unsought, As tributes due unto your natural vein.
Your tears have passion in them, and a grace Of genuine freshness, which our hearts avow; Your smiles are winds whose ways we cannot
trace, That vanish and return we know not how And please the better from a pensive face, A thoughtful eye, and a reflecting brow.