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THE pride of rooted majesty, The splendid pride of lordliness Stamp’d with the right imperial die— Most royal in adversity, Most radiant in distress— To-day beside the sea-waves wild I found it, in a beggar-child.

She sings upon the beach for hire; The vivid mirth across her face, Her Creole eyes of night and fire, The boldness of her bright attire, Daily suffuse the place; Light the dull ground, re-light the air, And lure a ring of gazers there.

To whom she croons a curious strain, Lawless, outlandish, eerie, sweet;—