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O! where the castle of bold Pfeiffer throws

Its sullen shadow on the rolling tide—

No more the home where joy and wealth repose,

But now where wassailers in cells abide;

See yon long quay that stretches far and wide,

Well known to citizens as wharf of Meiggs;

There each sweet Sabbath walks in maiden pride

The pensive Margaret, and brave Pat, whose legs

Encased in broadcloth oft keep time with Peg's.

Here cometh oft the tender nursery maid,

While in her ear her love his tale doth pour;