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112 &emsp;The joyful un prung up th' etherial way, &emsp;Strong as a giant, as a bridegroom gay; &emsp;And the pale moon diffus'd her hadowy light &emsp;Superior o'er the duky brow of night; Ten thouand glittering lamps the kies adorning, Numerous as dew drops from the womb of morning.

&emsp;Earth's blooming face with riing flowers he dret, &emsp;And pread a verdant mantle o'er her breat; &emsp;Then from the hollow of his hand he pours &emsp;The circling waters round her winding hores, The new-born world in their cool arms embracing, And with oft murmurs till her banks careing.

&emsp;At length he roe complete in finih'd pride, &emsp;All fair and potles, like a virgin bride; &emsp;Freh with untarnih'd lutre as he tood &emsp;Her Maker bles'd his work, and call'd it good; The