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Mine inspiration; and, as the last sweep Of my song died away amid the hills, My heart reverberate the shout which bore To the blue mountains and the distant heaven 's name, and on my bended knee, Olympus, I received thy laurel crown.

And twice new birth of violets have sprung, Since they were first my pillow, since I sought In the deep silence of the olive grove The dreamy happiness which solitude Brings to the soul o'erfilled with its delight: For I was like some young and sudden heir Of a rich palace heap'd with gems and gold, Whose pleasure doubles as he sums his wealth And forms a thousand plans of festival;