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Rh On nature's face, spring from thy sleepless couch, And mark the moonlight, when no one may see Thy deep emotion, and no idle word Of heartless praise disturb thy soul-felt spell; Gaze on the stars, till thou dost deem the gale That murmurs by is music from the spheres, No taint of earth upon thy dream of heaven; Watch the bright farewell of the sun, when he Seeks the white bosom of his ocean-love. Look on those glorious tints, till thou dost wish Thou wert a beautiful shadow like to them— A transitory, but a brilliant thing, Born amid glory, past away in light; Ah! then, indeed, nature has magic charms, And I do love to dwell upon them then.