XI.
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h, happy chance! the aged creature came,Shuffling along with ivory-headed wand,To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame,Behind a broad hall-pillar, far beyondThe sound of merriment and chorus bland:He startled her; but soon she knew his face,And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand,Saying, "Mercy, Porphyro! hie thee from this place;They are all here to-night, the whole blood-thirsty race!"
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