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Enter'd I next a stately hall; The young and the gay were at festival: The cheek of rose flush'd a redder dye; Flash'd the wild light from the full dark eye; Laugh'd the sweet lip with a sunny glance, As the beauty went through the graceful dance. And I saw the rich wine from the goblet spring, Like the sudden flash of a spirit's wing. Thence I went in the twilight dim, I heard a convent's vesper hymn: Beautiful were the vestal train That dwelt at peace in their holy fane. Paused I in air, to hear a song Which rather might to heaven belong; The very winds for delight were mute,— And I know 'twas the poet's gifted lute.