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| Hear the voice of the Bard!
Who present, past, and future, sees; Whose ears have heard The Holy Word That walk'd among the ancient trees, And weeping in the evening dew; That might control The starry pole, And fallen, fallen light renew! Arise from out the dewy grass; Night is worn, And the morn Rises from the slumberous mass. Why wilt thou turn away. The starry floor, The wat'ry shore, Is giv'n thee till the break of day.' |