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Stole odours. On the silver mirror's face Was but a single ripple that was made By a flamingo's beak, whose scarlet wings Shone like a meteor on the stream: around, Upon the golden sands, were coral plants, And shells of many colours, and sea weeds, Whose foliage caught and chain'd the Nautilus, Where lay they as at anchor. On each side Were grottoes, like fair porticoes with steps Of the green marble; and a lovely light, Like the far radiance of a thousand lamps, Half-shine, half-shadow, or the glorious track Of a departing star but faintly seen In the dim distance, through those caverns shone, And play'd o'er the tall trees which seem'd to hide Gardens, where hyacinths rang their soft bells To call the bees from the anemone,