Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1832 Original.pdf/6

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So doth the Syren sing, while sparking waves Dance to her chaunt.—But sternly, mournfully, O city of the deep! from Sybil grots And Roman tombs, the echoes of thy shore Take up the cadence of her strain alone, Murmuring—"Thou art not free!"