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A sound of lyre and song, In the still night, went floating o'er the Nile, Whose waves, by many an old mysterious pile, Swept with that voice along; And lamps were shining o'er the red wine's foam, Where a chief revell'd in a monarch's dome, And fresh rose-garlands deck'd a glittering throng.

'Twas Antony that bade The joyous chords ring out!—but strains arose Of wilder omen at the banquet's close! Sounds, by no mortal made* , Shook Alexandria through her streets that night, And pass'd—and with another sunset's light, The kingly Roman on his bier was laid.

Bright midst its vineyards lay The fair Campanian city†, with its towers