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The darkness, like a dome of stone,
Ceils up the heavens. 'T is hush as death,—
All but the ocean's dull, low moan.
How hard he draws his breath!
He shudders as he feels the working Power.
Arouse thee, Lee! up! man thee for thine hour!
Ceils up the heavens. 'T is hush as death,—
All but the ocean's dull, low moan.
How hard he draws his breath!
He shudders as he feels the working Power.
Arouse thee, Lee! up! man thee for thine hour!
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