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Excerpt from Mirandola: A Tragedy
That ¿owed from beaming day or starry night; Their music such as sprang from winds or ¿oods, Their colours those which hung the waving woods, The rocks, the vallies, and the circling sky; Their spi1 it the same which has thro' years gone by Lived - oh! And still, as fair as in its youth, Survives, - immutable, immortal truth; Their words - (no heavy coinage of the brain, Wrought with dull toil and uninspired pain,) Came from the gently-stricken heart's rebound, Like natural echoes from some pleasant sound.
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