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62 Well I remember, after all my toil, When within grasp of a momentous prize, Earth seem'd to glide from under; all was failings, Even as now! my very faithful friends— Who had plunged in drowning floods to rescue me; Who had interposed their bodies to avert The deadly javelin aim'd against my life; Who, pressing princely favours on my need, With more than counsel, with material aid, Further'd my humanizing pilgrimage;$13$ When Christian Levites would have pass'd me by, Jingled their gold, and sneer'd "Utopia!"— My welltried Makololo, they desert me! Shrinking at last from more long sacrifice, Bitter and boundless, it may be unavailing— I shall not reach those Lusian settlements Upon the long'd-for coast! all urge return. Return I will not! "Return ye then, my people! I will go Alone, if so indeed it needs must be!" With heavy tread, with heavier heart, I enter, Weary and fever-stricken, my small tent