Imágenes de páginas

An awful horroor fills the gloomy woods,

AN EPISTLE And bluish mists rise from the smoking foods:

TO MY FRIEND MR. ELIJAH FENTON, AUTHOR 01 • Haste, Daphnis, haste to fold thy woolly care,

MARIAMNE, A TRACEDY. The deepening shadesimbrown th' unwholesome air.

WHY art thou so slow to strike th' harmonious
Averse to sing, who know'st to sing so well? (shell,

If thy proud Muse the tragic buskin wears,
THE FIRST ODE OF HORACE, Great Sophocles revives and re-appears;

While, regularly bold, she nobly sings

Strains worthy to detain the ears of kings;
MÆCesas, whose high lineage springs

If by thy hand th’ Homeric' lyre be strung, From a long race of ancient kings,

The lyre returns such sounds as Homer sung. Patron and friend! thy honour'd name

The kind compulsion of a friend obey, At once is my defence and faine.

And, though reluctant, swell the lofty lay; (sound,

Then listening groves once more shall catch the There are, who with fond transport praise While Grecian Muses sing on British ground. The chariot thundering in the race;

Thus calm and silent thy own Proteus? roves Where conquest won, and palms bestow'd, Lift the proud mortal to a god.

Through pearly mazes, and through coral groves;

But when, emerging from the azure main, The man who courts the people's voice,

Coercive bands th' unwilling God constrain, And doats on offices and noise ;

Then heaves his bosom with prophetic fires, (spires. Or they who till the peaceful fields,

And his tongue speaks sublime, what Heaven inAnd reap what bounteous Nature yields,

Envy, 'tis true, with barbarous rage invades Unmov'd, the merchant's wealth behold,

Whater'n fierce lightning spares, the laurel shades; Nor hazard happiness for gold ;

And critics, biass'd by mistaken rules, Untempted by whole worlds of gain

Like Turkish zealots, reverence none but fools. To stem the billows of the main.

But praise from such injurious tongues is shame; The merchant, when the storm invades,

They rail the happy author into fame: Envies the quiet of the shades;

Thus Phæbus through the zodiac takes his way,

And rises amid monsters into day.
But soon relaunches from the shore,
Dreading the crime of being poor!

Oh vileness of mankind! when writing well

Becomes a crime, and danger to excel ! Some careless waste the mirthful day

While noble scorn, my friond, such insult sees, With generous wines, and wanton play,

And flies from towns to wilds, from men to trees. Indulgent of the genial hour,

Free from the lust of wealth, and glittering snares, By spring, or rill, or shade, or bower.

That make th' unhappy great in love with cares, Some hear with joy the clanging jar

Me humble joys in calm retirement please, Of trumpets, that alarm to war;

A silent happiness, and learned ease. While matrons tremble at the breath

Deny me grandeur, Heaven, but goodness grant ! That calls their sons to arms and death.

A king is less illustrious than a saint:

Hail, holy Virtue! come, thou heavenly guest, The sportsman, train'a in storms, defies

Come, fix thy pleasing empire in my breast ! The chilling blast, and freezing skies:

3 Thou know'st her influence, friend! thy chearful Unmindful of his bride, in vain

Proclaims the innocence and peace within ; [inien Soft beauty pleads ! along the plain

Such joys as none but sons of Virtue know, The stag he chases, or beguiles

Shine in thy face, and in thy bosom glow. The furious boar into his toils.

So when the holy mount the prophet trod, For you' the blooming ivy grows,

And talk'd familiar as a friend with God, Proud to adorn your learned brows;

Celestial radiance every feature shed, Patron of letters you arise,

And ambient glories dawn'd around his head. Grow to a god, and mount the skies.

Sure what th' unthinking great mistaken call Humbly in breezy shades I stray

Their happiness, is folly, folly all! Where Sylvans dance, and Satyrs play;

Like lofty mountains in the clouds they hide Contented to advance my claim,

Their haughty heads, but swell with barren pride ; Only o'er men without a name;

And, while low vales in useful beauty lie, Transcribing what the Muses sing

Heave their proud naked summits to the sky. Harmonious to the pipe or string.

In honour, as in place, ye great, transcend !

An angel fall'n, degenerates to a fiend : But if indulgently you deign

Th'all-chearing Sun is honour'd with his shrines; To rank me with the Lyric train,

Not that he moves aloft, but that he shines.
Aloft the towering Muse shall rise
On bolder wings, and gain the skies.

* Mr. Fenton translated four books of the Odys. sey.

? See the story of Proteus, Odyssey, lib.4, VARIATION.

translated by Mr. Fenton.
• Haste, Lycidas, to fold, &c.
Te doctarum hedere, &c.

: Thou feel'st her power, my friend, &c.


Why fames the star on Walpole's generous breast ? | Studious from ways of wicked men to keep, Not that he's highest, but because he's best; Who mock at vice, while grieving angc's weep. Fond to oblige; in blessing others, blest.

Come, taste, my friend! the joys retirement brings, How wondrous few, by avarice uncontrold,

Look down on royal slaves, and pity kings. Have virtue to subdue the thirst of gold !

More happy! laid where trees with trees entwin'd The shining dirt the sordid wretch ensnares

In bowery arches tremble to the wind, 'To buy, with mighty treasures, inighty cares ;

With innocence and shade like Adam blest, Blindly he courts, misguided by the will,

While a new Eden opens in the breast ! A specious good, and meets a real ill:

Such were the scenes descending angels trod So when Ulysses plough'd the surgy main;

In guiltless days, when man convers'd with God. When now in view appear'd his native reign,

Then shall my lyre to loftier sounds be strung, His wayward mates th’ Æolian bag unbind,

Inspir'd by Homer', or what thou hast sung: Expecting treasures, but out rush': a wind;

My Muse from thine shall catch a warmer ray; The sudden hurricane in thunder roars,

As clouds are brighten'd by the god of day. Buffets the bark, and whirls it from the shores. So trees unapt to bear, by art, refin'd,

With shoots tunobled of a generous kind, • O Heaven! by what vain passions man is sway'd,

High o'er the ground with fruits adopted rise,
Proud of his reason, by his will betray'd !
Blindly he wanders in pursuit of Vice,

And lift their spreading honours to the skies.
And batos confinement, though in Paradise ;
Doom'd, when enlarg’d, instead of Eden's bowers,
To rure in wilds, and gather thorns for flowers;
Between th' extremes, direct he sees the way,

Yet wilful swerves, perversely fond to stray!

BETWEEN A LADY AND FIER LOOKING-GLASS, WHILE Whilst niggard souls indulge their craving thirst,

SHE HAD THE GREEN-SICKNESS. Rich without bounty, with abundance curst; THE

gay Ophelia view'd her face The Prodigal pursues expensive vice,

In the clear crystal of her glass; And buys dishonour at a mighty price;

The lightning from her eye was fled, On beds of state the splendid glutton sleeps, Her cheek was pale, the roses dead. While starring Merit unregarded weeps:

Then thus Ophelia, with a frown:His ill-plac'd bounty, while scorn'd Virtue grieves,

“Art thou, false thing, perfidious grown! A dog, a tawning sycophant, receives;

I never could have thought, I swear,
And cringing knaves, or haughty strumpets, share
What would make Sorrow smile, and chear Despair.

To find so great a slanderer there!
Then would'st thou steer where Fortune spreads Beaux vow I'm fair-who never lye.

“ False thing! thy malice I defy ! the sails? Go, fatter Vice!' for seldom flattery fails:

More brittle far than brittle thou,

Would every grace of woman grow,
Soft through the ear the pleasing bane distils :
Delicious poison! in perfumes it kills!

If charms so great so soon decay,
Be all but virtuous : Oh! unwise to live

The bright pussession of a day!

But this I know, and this declare,
Unfashionably good, and hope to thrive!
Trees that aloft with proudest honours rise,

Thať thou art false, and I am fair."
Root he!l-ward, and thence flourish to the skies. The glass was vexed to be bely'd,
O happier thou, my friend, with ease content,

And thus with angry tone reply'd:
Blest with the conscience of a life well-spent! “No more to me of falsehood talk,
Nor would'st be great; but guide thy gather'd sails, But leave your oatmeal and your chalk!
Safe by the shore, nor tempt the rougher gales; 'Tis true, you're meagre, pale, and wan;
For sure, of all that feel the wound of Fate, The reason is, you're sick for man.”.
None are completely wretched but the grcat: While yet it spoke, Ophelia frown'd
Superior woes, superior stations bring;

And dash'd th' offender to the ground;
A peasant sleeps, while cares awake a king; With fury from her arm it fled,
Who reigns, must suffer! crons, with geins inlaid, And round a glittering ruin spread ;
At once adorn and load the royal head:

When lo! the parts pale looks disclose,
Change but the scene, and kings in dust decay, Pale looks in every fragment rose ;
Swept from the Earth, the pageants of a day; Around the room instead of one,
There no distinctions on the dead await,

An hundred pale Ophelias shone ;
Rut pompous graves, and rottenness in state. Away the frighted virgin new,
Such now are all that shone on Earth before; And, humbled, from herself withdrew.
Cæsar and mighty Marlborough are no more!
Unhallow'd feet o'er awful Tully tread,
And Hyde and Plato join the vulgar dead;

Ye beaux, who tempt the fair and young,
And all the glorious aims that can employ With snuff, and nonsense, dance, and songs
The soul of mortals, must with Hanmer die:

Ye men of compliment and lace! O Compton, when this breath we once resign,

Behold this image in the glass : My dust shall be as eloquent as thine !

The wondrous force of flattery prove, Till that last hour which calls me hence away To cheat fond virgins into love: To pay that great arrear which all must pay; Oh! may I tread the paths which saints have trod, * Dr. Broome translated eight books of the Who knew they walkid before th’all-seeing God!



Though pale the cheek, yet swear it glows So rush the globes with maðy a flery round,
With the vermilion of the rose :

Tear up the rock, or rend'the stedfast mound.
Praise them for praise is always true,

Death shakes aloft her dart, and o'er her prey Though with both eyes the cheat they view. Stalks with dire joy, and marks in blood her way From hateful truths the virgin flies;

Mountains of heroes slain deform the ground,
But the false sex is caught with lies.

The shape of man half bury'd in the wound:
And lo! while in the shock of war they close,
While swords meet swords, and foes encounter foes,

The treacherous Earth beneath their footsteps


Her entrails tremble, and her bosom heaves ;

Sudden in bursts of fire eruptions rise,

And whirl the torn battalions to the skies.

Thus earthquakes, rumbling with a thundering WITU THE PRAISE OF PEACE AND RETIREMENT

sound, WRITTEN IN 1710.

Shake the firm world, and rend the cleaving ground;

Rocks, hills, and groves, are tost into the sky, Secessus mei non desidiæ nomen, sed tranquillita-And in one mighty ruin nations die. tis accipiant.


See! through th' encumber'd air the ponderous

Bears magazines of Death within its womb; [bomb Happy, thou Flandria, on whose fertile plains,

The glowing orb displays a blazing train, In wanton pride luxurious Plenty reigns;

And darts bright horrour through th'ethereal plain ; Happy! had Heaven bestow'd one blessing more,

* It mounts tempestuous, and with hideous sound And plac'd thee distant from the Gallic power!

Wheels down the heavens, and thunders o'er the But now in vajn thy lawns attract the view,

ground: They but invite the victor to subdue:

Th' imprison'd Deaths rush dreadful in a blaze, War, horrid War, the sylvan scene invades,

And mow a thousand lives, a thousand ways; (arise And angry trumpets pierce the woodland shades;

Earth floats with blood, while spreading flames Here shatter'd towers, proud works of many an age, From palaces, and domes, and kindie half the skies Lie dreadful monuments of human rage;

Thus terribly in air the comets roll,
There palaces and hallow'd domes display
Majestic ruins, awful in decay!

And shoot malignant gleams froin pole to pole; Thy very dust, though undistinguish'd trod,

'Tween worlds and worlds they move, and from their

hair Compos'd, perhaps, some hero, great and good, Who nobly for his country lost his blood!

Shake the blue Plague, the Pestilence, and War. Ev'n with the grave, the haughty spoilers war, But who is he, who stem bestrides the plain, And Death's dark mansions wide disclose to air: Who drives triumphant o'er huge hills of slain; O'er kings and saints insulting stalk, nor dread Serene, while engines from the hostile tower To spurn the ashes of the glorious dead.

Rain from their brazen mouths an iron slower ; See! the Britannic lions wave in air !

While turbid fiery smoke obscures the day, See ! mighty Marlborough breathing death and war! Hews thro' the deathful breach his desperate way : From Albiou's shores, at Anna's high commands,

Sure Jove descending joins the inartial toil; The dauntless hero pours his martial bands.

Or is it Marlborough, or the great Argyle? As when in wrath stern Mars the Thunderer sends Thus, when the Grecians, furious to destroy, To scourge his foes; in pomp the god descends; Level'd the structures of imperial Troy; He inounts his iron car; with fury burns;

Here angry Neptune hurl'd his vengeful mace, The car, fierce-rattling, thunders as it turns; 'There Jove o'erturn'd it froin its inmost base: Gloomy he grasps his adamantine shield,

Though brave, yet vanquished, she contess'd the And scatters armies o'er th' ensanguin'd field:

odds; With delegated wrath thus Marlborough glows, Her sons were heroes, but they fought with gods. In vengeance rushing on his country's foes.

Ah! what new horrours rise? In deep array See! round the hostile towers embattled stands

The squadrons form! aloft the standards play! His bander'd host, embolied bands by bands!

The captains draw the sword! on every brow Hark! the shrill trumpet sends a mortal sound, Determin'd ralour lowers! the truinpets blow! And prancing horses shake the solid ground; See! the brave Briton delves the cavern'd ground 'The surly drums brat terrible afar,

Through the hard entrails of the stubborn niound ! With all the dreadful music of the war;

And undismay'd by Death, the fue invades From the drawn swords effulgent flames arise, Through dreadful horrorus of infernal shades ! Flash o'er the plains, and lighten to the skies; The heavens above, the fields and floods beneath, Glare formidably bright, and shine with death;

VARIATIONS. In fiery storms descends a murderous shower, 5 Ev’n the stern souls of beroes feel dismay; Thick flash the lightnings, fierce the thunders roar.

Proud temples nod, aspiring towers give way. As when in wrathful mood almighty Jove

Dreadful it mounts, tempestuous in its tlight, Aims his dire bolts red-hissing from above;

It sinks, it falls, Earth groans beneath its weight Through the sing'd air, with unresisted sway,

Th’ imprison'u Deaths rush out in smoke and tire, The forky vengeance rends its flaming way,

The mighty bleed, heaps crush'd on heaps expire. And, while the firipament with thunder roars, From their fouudations hurls imperial towers: • The barriers burst, wide-spreading flaines arises

In vain the wall's broad base deep-rooted lies, I see proud victors in triumphal cars,
In vain an hundred turrets threat the skies ! Chiefs, kings, and heroes, seam'd with glorious
Lo! while at ease the bands immur'd repose,

scars! Nor careless dream of subterranean foes,

Or listen till the raptur'd soul takes wings,
Like the Cadmæan host, embattled swarms While Plato reasons, or while Homer sings,
Start from the earth, and clash their sounding arms,
And, pouring war and slaughter from beneath,

Charm me, ye sacred leaves', with loftier themes, Wrap towers, walls, men, in fire, in blood, in death. With opening Heavens, and angels rob'd in flames:

Ye restless passions, while I read, be awd:
So some fam'd torrent dives within the caves Hail, ye mysterious oracles of God!
Of opening earth, ingulph'd with all his waves ;

Here I behold how infant Time began,
High o'er the latent stream the shepherd feeds

How the dust mov'd and quicken'd into man; His wandering flock, and tunes the sprightly reed: Here through the flowery walks of Eden rove, Till from some rifted chasm the billows rise,

Court the soft breeze, or range the spicy grove; And, foaming, burst tumultuous to the skies;

There tred on hallow'd ground where angels trod, Then, roaring dreadful o'er the delug'd plain,

And reverend patriarchs talk'd as friends with Sweep herds and hinds in thunder to the main.


Or hear the voice to slumbering prophets gičen, Bear me, ye friendly powers, to gentler scenes,

Or gaze on visions from the throne of Heaven, To shady bowers, and never-fading greens ! Where the shrill trumpet never sounds alarms,

But nobler yet, far nobler scenes advance ! Nor martial din is heard, nor clash of arms; Why leap the mountains ? why the forests dance Hail, ye soft seats ! ye limpid springs and floods !

Why fashes glory from the golden spheres ? Ye towery meads, ye vales, and woods !

Rejoice, O Earth, a God, a God appears! Ye limpid floods, that ever murmuring flow! A God, a God, descending angels sing, Ye verdant meads, where flowers eternal blow! And mighty Seraphs shout, Behold your King! Ye shady vales, where Zephyrs ever play!

Hail, virgin-born! Lift, lift, ye blind, your eyes} Ye woods,where little warblers tune their lay! Sing, oh! ye dumb! and on! ye dead, arise!

Tremble, ye gates of Hell! in noblest strains Here grant me, Heaven, to end my peaceful days, Tell it aloud, ye Heaveus! the Saviour reigns! And steal myself from life by slow decays; Draw health from food the temperate garden yields, of transient life, in no unuseful ease !

Thus lonely, thoughtful, may I run the race From fruit or herb the bounty of the fields;

Enjoy each hour, nor as it fleets away, Nor let the loaded table groan beneath

Think life too short, and yet too long the day; Slain animals, the horrid feast of Death: With age unknown to pain or sorrow blest,

Of right observant, while the soul attends To the dark grave retiring as to rest;

Each duty, and makes Heaven and angels friends,

And thou, fair Peace, from the wild floods of war While gently with one sigh this mortal frame Dissolving turuş to ashes, whence it came;

Come dove-like, and thy blooming olive bear; While my freed soul departs without a groan,

Tell me, ye victors, what strange charnus ye find

In Conquest, that destruction of mankind! And, joyful, wings her fight to worlds unknown.

Unenvy'd may your Jaurels ever grow,
Ye gloomy grots ! ye awful solemn cells, That never flourish but in human woe,
Where holy thoughtful Contemplation dwells, If never Earth the wreath triumphal bears,
Guard me from splendid cares, and tiresome state, Till drench'd in heroes' blood, or orphans' tcars,
That pompous misery of being great!

Let Ganges from afar to slaughter train
Happy!. if by the wise and learn'd belov'd;
But happiest above all, if self-approv'd !

His sable warriors on th' embattled plain ;
Content with ease; ambitious to despise

Let Volga's sons in iron squadrons rise, Illustrious Vanity, and glorious Vice !

And pour in millions from her frozen skies : Coine, thou chaste maid, here ever let me stray,

Thou, gentle Thames, flow thou in peaceful streams, While the calm hours stcal unperceived away;

Bid thy bold sons restrain their martial flames.

In thy own laurel's shade, great Marlborough, Here court the Muses, while the Sun on high Flames in the vault of Heaven, and fires the sky : There charm the thonghts of conquer'd worlds


[away: Or while the night's dark wings this globe sur

Guardian of England ! born to scourge her foes, round, And the pale Moon begins her solemn round,

Speak, and thy word gires half the world repose ; Bid my free soul to starry orbs repair,

Sink down, ye hills; eternal rocks, subside; Those radiant worlds that float in ambient air,

Vanish, ye forts; thou, Ocean, drain thy tide: And with a regular confusion stray

We safety boast, defended by thy fame, Oblique, direct, along th' aërial way:

And armies in the terrour of thy name! Or when Aurora, from her golden bowers,

Now fix o'er Anna's throne thy victor blade. Exhales the fragrance of the balmy flowers,

War, be thou chain'd! ye streams of blood, be Reclin'd in silence on a mossy bed,

stay'd! Consult the learned volumes of the dead;

Though wild Ambition her just vengeance feels, Fall’n realms and empires in description view,

She wars to save, and where she strikes, she heals Live o'er past times, and build whole worlds anew; So Pallas with her javelin smote the ground, Or from the bursting tombs in fancy raise, And peaceful olives flourish'd from the wou sirdi The sons of Fame, who liv'd in ancient days: And lo! with haughty stalk the warrior treads ! Stern legislators, frowning, lift their heads !

? The Holy Scriptures

Against our reason fondly we believe,

Assist the fraud, and teach it to deceive :

As the faint traveller, when Night invades, CHARLES LORD CORNWALLIS,

Sees a false light relieve the ambient shades,
BARON OF EYRE, WARDEN, CHIEP JUSTICE, AND JUSTICE Pleas'd he beholds the bright delusion play,

IN EYRE OF ALL HIS MAJESTY'S PORESTS, CHASES, But the false guide shines only to betray:
PARKS, AND WARRENS, ON THE SOUTH SIDE OP Swift he pursues, yet still the path mistakes,

O'er dangerous marshes, or through thorny brakes;

Yet obstinate in wrong he toils to stray,
δώρον τοι τούτο δίδωμι

With many a weary stride, o'er many a painful way.

Odyssey, lib. 15.

So man pursues the phantom of his brain,

And buys his disappointment with his pain: o Tuou, whose virtues sanctify thy state ! At length when years invidiously destroy O great, without the vices of the great!

The power to taste the long-expected joy,
Form'd by 'a dignity of mind to please,

Then Fortune envious sheds her golden shor'ra,
To think, to act with elegance and ease 8 ! Malignly smiles, and curses him with stores.
Say, wilt thou listen wbile I tune the string,
And sing to thee, who gav'st me ease to sing?

Thus o'er the urns of friends departed weep
Unskill'd in verse, I haunt the silent grove;

The mournful kindred, and fond vigils keep;

Ambrosial ointments o'er their ashes shed,
Yet lowly shepherds sing to mighty Jove :

And scatter useless roses on the dead;
And mighty Jove attends the shepherds' vows,
And gracious what his suppliants ask bestows:

And when no more avail the world's delights,
So by thy favour inay the Muse be crown'd,

The spicy odours, and the solemn rites, And plant her laurels in more fruitful ground;

With fruitless pomp they deck the senseless tombang The grateful Muse shall in return bestow

And waste profusely floods of vain perfumes Her spreading laurels to adorn thy brow.

Thus, guarded by the tree of Jove, a flower Shoots from the earth, nor fears th' inclement And, when the fury of the storm is laid, (shower;

Repays with sweets the hospitable shade.

Severe their lot, who, when they long endure
The wounds of fortune, late receive a cure!

Like ships in storms o'er liquid mountains tost,
Ere they are «avid must almost first be lost; Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose,
But you with speed forbid distress to grieve: The beauties of thy leaves disclose!
He gives by halves', who hesitates to give. The winter's past, the tempests fly,
Thus, when an angel views mankind distrest,

Soft gales breathe gently through the sky;
He feels compassion pleading in his breast;

The lark sweet warbling on the wing Instant the heavenly guardian cleaves the skies,

Salutes the gay return of Spring:

The silver dews, the vernal showers,
And, pleas'd to save, on wings of lightning flies'.

Call forth a bloomy waste of flowers ;
Some the vain promises of courts betray; The joyous fields, the shady woods,
And gayly straying, they are pleas'd to stray; Are cloth'd with green, or swell with buds;
The Aattering nothing still deludes their eyes, Then haste thy beauties to disclose,
Seems ever near, yet ever distant fies :

Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose !
As perspectives present the object nigh,

Thou, beauteous flower, a welcome guest, Though far remov'd from the mistaking eye;

Shalt flourish on the fair-one's breast,

Shalt grace her hand, or deck her hair,

The flower most sweet, the nymph inost fair,

Breathe soft, ye winds: be calm, ye skies ! Firm to thy king, and to thy country brave;

Arise, ye flowery race, arise ! Loyal, yet free; a subject, not a slave;

And haste thy beauties to disclose,

Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose ! • Few know to ask, or decently receive; And fewer still with dignity to give :

But thou, fair nymph, thyself survey If earn'd hy flattery, gifts of highest price

In this sweet offspring of a day :

That iniracle of face must fail;
Are not a bounty, but the pay of Vice.
Some wildly lavish, yet no friend obtain;

Thy charms are sweet, but charms are frail :

Swift as the short-liv'd flower they ily,
Nor are they generous, but absurd and vain.
Some give with surly pride and boisterous hands,

At morn they bloom, at evening die :
As Jove pours rain in thunder O'er the lands. Though Sickness yet a while forbears,
When Merit pleads, you ineet it, and embrace,

Yet Time destroys what Sickness spares. And give the favour lustre by the grace;

Now Helen lives alone in fame,
So Phæbns to his warmth a glory joins,

And Cleopatra 's but a name.
Blessing the world, and while he blesses shines. Time must indent that heavenly brow,

And thou must be, what they are now,
· The lord Cornwallis, in a most obliging man-
ner, recommended the author to the rectory of This moral to the fair disclose,

Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose

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Say, &c.

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