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That I may make thee known, with all the beauty and the light, And the glory never more to bless thy daughter's yearning sight! Thy woods shall whisper in my song, thy bright streams warble by, Thy soul flow o'er my lips again—yet once, my Sicily!

"There are blue heavens—far hence, far hence! but oh! their glorious blue! Its very night is beautiful, with the hyacinth's deep hue! It is above my own fair land, and round my laughing home, And arching o'er my vintage-hills, they hang their cloudless dome, And making all the waves as gems, that melt along the shore, And steeping happy hearts in joy—that now is mine no more.