Within whose foliage is lulled the power. Yet all unites! The winding path that leads Thro' fields where verdure meets the trav'ller's eye. The river's margin, blurred with wavy reeds, The muffled anthem, echoing to the sky! The ivy smothering the armed tower; 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;

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