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THE WORDS OF WOE. 179
Chief of Afcar ! — thou who waft great a-
inong the mighty, wilt thou not hear? — Other
^holls roam abroad in the feafon of darknefs^
The fons of the feeble fly in hafte j but I fly-
not thee. Thy grim ghoft has no terrors for
me. I fearch for thee among the dim fhades
of night ; but I cannot .find thee. The whirl-
wind is heard as it pafleth ; but thy voice is
not there. The full orbed moon is in the eaft:
The polilhed furface of the lake glitters below,
Smooth are her fteps along the half darkened
arch. — But thou fmileft in vain, daughter of
night I The children of the den fleep, regard-
lefs of thy beams. The fons of the cottage
alfo purfue their peaceful dreams ! No fha-
-dow moves before thee, but the wretched
Lefbana. She mourns the fall of her huf-
band. Her voice is heard among the clouds
of night ; but he hears her not. She inquires
lor her hunter,; but the fons of the rock re-
turn her own words for anfwer. —
O thou moon ! to whom the trembling ftars
nod in obedience in the feafon of fleep ; thou
iiaft often travelled thy journey through the
iky.

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