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How many a state, whose pillar'd strength sublime, Defied the storms of war, the waves of time, Towering o'er earth majestic and alone, Fortress of power—has flourished and is gone! And they, from clime to clime by conquest borne, Each fleeting triumph destined to adorn, They, that of powers and kingdoms lost and won, Have seen the noontide and the setting sun, Consummate still in every grace remain, As o'er their heads had ages rolled in vain! Ages, victorious in their ceaseless flight, O'er countless monuments of earthly might! While she, from fair Byzantium's lost domain, Who bore those treasures to her ocean-reign, 'Midst the blue deep, who reared her island-throne, And called th' infinitude of waves her own; Venice the proud, the Regent of the sea, Welcomes in chains the trophies of the Free!