XVIII.
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oor, paltry slaves! yet born 'midst noblest scenes--Why, Nature, waste thy wonders on such men?Lo! Cintra's glorious Eden intervenes[45]In variegated maze of mount and glen.Ah, me! what hand can pencil guide, or pen,To follow half on which the eye dilatesThrough views more dazzling unto mortal ken[ay]Than those whereof such things the Bard relates,Who to the awe-struck world unlocked Elysium's gates.
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