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Rh As if some unseen visitant from heaven Touched the calm lake, and wreathed its images In sparkling waves ; recall the dallying hope That on the margin of assurance trembled, As loath to lose in certainty too blest Its happy being ; taste in thought again Of the stolen sweetness of those evening walks, When pansied turf was air to winged feet, And circling forests, by ethereal touch Enchanted, wore the livery of the sky, As if about to melt in golden light, Shapes of one heavenly vision ; and thy heart, Enlarged by its new sympathy with one, Grew bountiful to all! Ad. That tone! that tone! Whence came it? from thy lips? It cannot be The long-hushed music of the only voice That ever spake unbought affection to me, And waked my soul to blessing. O sweet hours Of golden joy, ye come! your glories break Through my pavilion'd spirit's sable folds. Roll on! roll on! — Stranger, thou dost enforce me To speak of things unbreathed by lip of mine To human ear: wilt listen? Ion. As a child. Ad. Again! that voice again ! Thou hast seen me moved As never mortal saw me, by a tone Which some light breeze, enamoured of the sound, Hath wafted through the woods, till thy young voice Caught it to rive and melt me. At my birth This city, which, expectant of its prince, Lay hushed, broke out in clamorous ecstasies; Yet, in that moment, while the uplifted cups Foamed with the choicest product of the sun, And welcome thundered from a thousand throats, My doom was sealed. From the hearth's vacant space, In the dark chamber where my mother lay, Faint with the sense of pain-bought happiness, Came forth in heart-appalling tone, these words Of me, the nursling: "Woe unto the babe! Against the life which now begins shall life, Lighted from thence, be armed, and, both soon quenched,