The dying wind that mocks the pilot's ear; The lordly equipage at midnight hour, Draws into danger in a fog the peer; The votaries of Satan or of Jove; The wretched mendicant absorbed in woe; The din of multitudes that onward move; The voice of conscience in the heart below; The waves, which Thou, O Lord, alone canst still; Th' elastic air; the streamlet on its way;

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