There blossom'd saddenly a magic bed
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f sacred dittany, and poppies i-ed : At which I wonder'd gi*eatly, knowing well That but one night had wrought tliis flowery spell ; And, sitting down close by, began to muse What it might mean. Perhaps, thought I, Morpheus, In pasdng here, his owlet pinions shook ; Or, it may be, ere matron Night uptook Her ebon urn, young Mercui'y, by stealth.
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