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Rh

Leant :—there was many a tent More royal, more magnificent, With purple, gold, and crimson swelling, But none so like a fairy dwelling: One curtain bore her father's crest, But summer flowers confined the rest; And, at her feet, the ground was strew'd With the June's rainbow multitude: Beside her knelt a page, who bore A vase with jewels sparkling o'er, And in that shining vase was set The prize,—.

Alas for her whom ev'ry eye Worshipp'd like a divinity! Alas for her whose ear was fill'd With flatteries like sweet woods distill'd!