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   Sleep, extend thy downy pinion,
Hasten from thy Cell with speed;
   Spread around thy soft dominion;
Much those brows thy balmy presence need.

   Wave thy wand of slumbrous power,
Moistened in Lethèan dews,
   To charm the busy spirits of the hour,
And brighten memory's malignant hues.

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   Thy mantle, dark and starless, cast
Over my selected youth;
   Bury, in thy womb, the mournful past,
And soften, with thy dreams, th' asperities of truth.

   The changeful hues of his impassioned sleep
My office it will be to watch the while;
   With thee, my love, when fancy prompts, to weep,
And when thou smil'st, to smile.

   But sleep! I charge thee, visit not these eyes,
Nor raise thy dark pavilion here,
   'Till morrow from the cave of ocean rise,
And whisper tuneful joy in nature's ear.

   But mutely let me lie, and sateless gaze
At all the soul that in his visage sits,
   While spirits of harmonious air,———

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