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Hung on the winds as from his ayrie flight, With wide-pred wing unmovd, the eagle bends, When, on old Snowdons brow prepard to light, Sailing the liquid kye he heer decends: Thus oft, when roving farre as wave extends, The cenes of promit blis would warm the Boy; To meet his brother with each wih yblends, And friendhips glowing hopes each thought employ; And now at home arrivd his heart dilates with joy.

Around the meadows and the parke he looks, To py the treamlett or the elm-tree hade, Where oft at eve, beneath the cawing rooks, He with his feres in merry childhoode playd: But all was changd!—Unweetingly dimayd A cold foreboding impule thrills his breat; And who but Kathrin now is dearnly frayd When entering in he kens the tranger guet: Then with ad mien he roe, and kindlie him embrat.