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 * Where high o'er Tago's flood Almada lowers,

Amid the solemn pomp of mouldering towers Supinely seated, wide and far around My eye delighted wanders.—Here the bound Of fair Europa o'er the Ocean rears Its western edge; where dimly disappears The Atlantic wave, the slow descending day Mild beaming pours serene the gentle ray Of Lusitania's winter, silvering o'er The tower-like summits of the mountain shore; Dappling the lofty cliffs, that coldly throw Their sable horrors o'er the vales below. Far round the stately-shoulder'd river bends Its giant arms, and sea-like wide extends Its midland bays, with fertile islands crown'd, And lawns for English valour still renown'd: Given to Cornwallia's gallant sons of yore, Cornwallia's name the smiling pastures bore; And still their Lord his English lineage boasts From Rolland famous in the Croisade Hosts. Where