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"Mors erat ante oculos." , lib. ix.

forest made my home—the voiceful streams My minstrel throng: the everlasting hills,— Which marry with the firmament, and cry Unto the brazen thunder, 'Come away, Come from thy secret place, and try our strength,—' Enwrapp'd me with their solemn arms. Here, light Grew pale as darkness, scarëd by the shade O' the forest Titans. Here, in piny state, Reign'd Night, the Æthiopian queen, and crown'd