LXXXII

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LXXXII

“Onward we floated o’er the panting streets,

That seem’d throughout with upheld faces paved;

Look where we will, our bird’s-eye vision meets

Legions of holiday; bright standards waved,

And fluttering ensigns emulously craved

Our minute’s glance; a busy thunderous roar,

From square to square, among the buildings raved,

As when the sea, at flow, gluts up once more

The craggy hollowness of a wild-reefed shore.