THE TURN.
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RAVE infant of Saguntum, clearThy coming forth in that great year,When the prodigious Hannibal did crownHis cage, with razing your immortal town.Thou, looking then about,Ere thou wert half got out,Wise child, didst hastily return,And mad’st thy mother’s womb thine urn.How summed a circle didst thou leave mankindOf deepest lore, could we the centre find!
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