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"There be none of Beauty's daughters"

8
THERE be none of Beauty's daughters

    With a magic like thee;

    And like music on the waters

    Is thy sweet voice to me:

    When as if its sound were causing

    The charmed ocean's pausing

    The waves lie still and gleaming

    And the lull'd winds seem dreaming:

    And the midnight moon is weaving

    Her bright chain o'er the deep

    Whose breast is gently heaving

    As an infant's asleep:

    So the spirit bows before thee

    To listen and adore thee;

    With a full but soft emotion

    Like the swell of summer's ocean.

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