Sleep, motley, with the great of ancient days,
Who wrote for all the years that yet shall be!
Sleep with Herodotus, whose name and praise
Have reached the isles of earth’s remotest sea;
Sleep, while, defiant of the slow decays
Of time, thy glorious...
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Take back into thy bosom, earth, |
Back to the flower-town, side by side, The sweet land laughs from sea to sea, |