The Tempest
Epilogue

William Hatherell, 1904
Prospero
1 - 20
1 - 20
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Now my charms are all o’erthrown,
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And what strength I have’s mine own,
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Which is most faint. Now ’tis true,
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I must be here confin’d by you,
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Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
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Since I have my dukedom got,
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And pardon’d the deceiver, dwell
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In this bare island by your spell,
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But release me from my bands
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With the help of your good hands.
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Gentle breath of yours my sails
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Must fill, or else my project fails,
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Which was to please. Now I want
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Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
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And my ending is despair,
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Unless I be reliev’d by prayer,
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Which pierces so, that it assaults
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Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
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As you from crimes would pardon’d be,
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Let your indulgence set me free.
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