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Where the tints of the earth, and the hues Like the leaves of the forest when Sumof the sky,

In color though varied, in beauty may vie, And the purple of ocean is deepest in dye; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,

And all, save the spirit of man, is divine? 15 'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun

mer is green,

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That host with their banners at sunset

were seen:

Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,

That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

Can he smile on such deeds as his children For the Angel of Death spread his wings

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They chained us each to a column stone,
And we were three-yet each alone;
We could not move a single pace,
We could not see each other's face,
But with that pale and livid light
That made us strangers in our sight:
And thus together-yet apart,
Fettered in hand, but joined in heart, 55
'Twas still some solace in the dearth
Of the pure elements of earth,
To hearken to each other's speech,
And each turn comforter to each,
With some new hope, or legend old,
Or song heroically bold;

But even these at length grew cold.
Our voices took a dreary tone,
An echo of the dungeon-stone,

A grating sound-not full and free
As they of yore were wont to be:
It might be fancy-but to me
They never sounded like our own.

I was the eldest of the three;

And to uphold and cheer the rest I ought to do and did-my best, And each did well in his degree.

бо

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The youngest, whom my father loved, Because our mother's brow was given To him-with eyes as blue as heaven,- 75 For him my soul was sorely moved. And truly might it be distressed To see such bird in such a nest;

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To rend and gnash my bonds in twain.
He died—and they unlocked his chain
And scooped for him a shallow grave
Even from the cold earth of our cave.
I begged them, as a boon, to lay
His corse in dust whereon the day
Might shine-it was a foolish thought,
But then within my brain it wrought, 155
That even in death his free-born breast
In such a dungeon could not rest.
I might have spared my idle prayer-
They coldly laughed and laid him there:
The flat and turfless earth above
The being we so much did love;
His empty chain above it leant,
Such murder's fitting monument!

But he, the favorite and the flower,
Most cherished since his natal hour,
His mother's image in fair face,
The infant love of all his race,
His martyred father's dearest thought,
My latest care, for whom I sought
To hoard my life, that his might be
Less wretched now, and one day free;
He, too, who yet had held untired
A spirit natural or inspired-
He, too, was struck, and day by day
Was withered on the stalk away.
O God! it is a fearful thing

To see the human soul take wing

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In any shape, in any mood:

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I've seen the sick and ghastly bed
Of Sin delirious with its dread:
But these were horrors-this was woe
Unmixed with such, but sure and slow:
He faded, and so calm and meek,
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So softly worn, so sweetly weak,
So tearless, yet so tender,-kind,

And grieved for those he left behind;
With all the while a cheek whose bloom
Was as a mockery of the tomb,
Whose tints as gently sunk away

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As a departing rainbow's ray
An eye of most transparent light,
That almost made the dungeon bright, 195
And not a word of murmur-not
A groan o'er his untimely lot!
A little talk of better days,
A little hope my own to raise,
For I was sunk in silence-lost
In this last loss, of all the most:
And then the sighs he would suppress
Of fainting nature's feebleness,
More slowly drawn, grew less and less.
I listened, but I could not hear-
I called, for I was wild with fear;
I knew 'twas hopeless, but my dread
Would not be thus admonished;

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I called, and thought I heard a sound-
I burst my chain with one strong bound,
And rushed to him;-I found him not; 211
I only stirred in this black spot,
I only lived-I only drew
The accursed breath of dungeon-dew;
The last, the sole, the dearest link 215
Between me and the eternal brink
Which bound me to my failing race,
Was broken in this fatal place.
One on the earth, and one beneath-
My brothers--both had ceased to breathe:
I took that hand which lay so still;
Alas, my own was full as chill;

I had not strength to stir or strive,
But felt that I was still alive—
A frantic feeling, when we know
That what we love shall ne'er be so.
I know not why

I could not die;

I had no earthly hope-but faith, And that forbade a selfish death.

What next befell me then and there I know not well-I never knew:First came the loss of light, and air, And then of darkness too:

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No check, no change,-no good,-no crime,

But silence, and a stirless breath

Which neither was of life nor death;

A sea of stagnant idleness,

For-Heaven forgive that thought! the while

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Which made me both to weep and smile;
I sometimes deemed that it might be
My brother's soul come down to me;
But then at last away it flew,

And then 'twas mortal-well I knew, 290
For he would never thus have flown,
And left me twice so doubly lone-
Lone, as the corse within its shroud;
Lone, as a solitary cloud,

A single cloud on a sunny day,
While all the rest of heaven is clear,
A frown upon the atmosphere,
That hath no business to appear
When skies are blue and earth is

A kind of change came in my fate,

Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless! 250 My keepers grew compassionate:

A light broke in upon my brain

It was the carol of a bird;

It ceased, and then it came again,

The sweetest song ear ever heard; And mine was thankful, till my eyes Ran over with the glad surprise, And they that moment could not see I was the mate of misery; But then by dull degrees came back My senses to their wonted track, I saw the dungeon walls and floor Close slowly round me as before, I saw the glimmer of the sun Creeping as it before had done,

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But through the crevice where it came 265
That bird was perched, as fond and tame,
And tamer than upon the tree;
A lovely bird, with azure wings,
And song that said a thousand things,
And seemed to say them all for me! 270

I never saw its like before,

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I ne'er shall see its likeness more:
It seemed, like me, to want a mate,
But was not half so desolate,
And it was come to love me when
None lived to love me so again,
And cheering from my dungeon's brink,
Had brought me back to feel and think.
I know not if it late were free,

Or broke its cage to perch on mine, 280 But knowing well captivity,

Sweet bird, I could not wish for thine! Or if it were, in wingèd guise, A visitant from Paradise;

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gay.

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I know not what had made them so,
They were inured to sights of woe;
But so it was my broken chain
With links unfastened did remain,
And it was liberty to stride
Along my cell from side to side,
And up and down, and then athwart,
And tread it over every part;
And round the pillars one by one,
Returning where my walk begun,
Avoiding only, as I trod,

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