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I entered:—and, beneath the roof, Ten thousand wax-lights burnt on high; And incense on the censers fumed As for some great solemnity. The white-robed choristers were singing; Their cheerful peal the bells were ringing: Then deep-voiced music floated round, As the far arches sent forth sound— The stately organ:—and fair bands Of young girls strewed, with lavish hands, Violets o'er the mosaic floor; And sang while scattering the sweet store. I turned me to a distant aisle, Where but a feeble glimmering came (Itself in darkness) of the smile Sent from the tapers' perfumed flame;