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 Deep, said the angel voiceangel-voice [sic], the roots secure With bands of brass, and let the life endure, For yet his head shall rise.—And deep remain The living roots of Lisboa's ancient reign, Deep in the castled isles on Asia's strand, And firm in fair Brazilia's wealthy land. And say, while ages roll their length'ning train, Shall Nature's gifts to Tagus still prove vain, An idle waste!—A dawn of brightest ray Has boldly promised the returning day Of Lisboa's honours, fairer than her prime Lost by a rude unletter'd Age's crime— Now Heaven-taught Science and her liberal band Of Arts, and dictates by experience plann'd, Beneath the smiles of a benignant Queen Boast the fair opening of a reign serene, Of