Now yellowing hazels fringe the greener plain
And mountains show their unchain'd necks again,
And little rivulets beneath them creep
And gleam and glitter in each cloven steep;
Now, when supplanted by insidious snow
The huge stone rolls into the lake below,
What in these scenes, her earlier haunts, to roam,
What can detain my lovely friend from home?
'Tis that mid fogs and smoke she hears the claim
And feels the love of Freedom and of Fame:
Before these two she bends serenely meek . .
They also bend, and kiss her paler cheek.
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