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VOICES OF THE NIGHT.

1839.

PRELUDE.

PLEASANT it was, when woods were green,

And winds were soft and low, To lie amid some sylvan scene, Where, the long drooping boughs between, Shadows dark and sunlight sheen

Alternate come and go;

Or where the denser grove receives

No sunlight from above,
But the dark foliage interweaves
In one unbroken roof of leaves,
Underneath whose sloping eaves

The shadows hardly move.

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