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Girt about with emerald bands, Nestling down in its meadow lands?

Saw you this on your thieving raids? Speak—you rascally renegades!

Thieved you also away from me Olden scenes that I long to see?

If, O! crows, you have flown since morn Over the place where I was born,

Forget will I, how black you were Since dawn, in feather and character;

Absolve will I, your vagrant band Ere you enter your slumberland.