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I listen'd to that old man's words Till my heart's pulses were as chords Of a lute waked at the command Of some thrice powerful master's hand. He paused: I saw his face was bright With even more than morning's light, As his cheek felt the spirit's glow; A glory sate upon his brow, His eye flash'd as to it were given A vision of his coming heaven. I turn'd away in awe and fear, My spirit was not of his sphere; Ill might an earthly care intrude Upon such high and holy mood: I felt the same as I had done Had angel face upon me shone,