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Adorning its bald and majestical peak, Like the lock on the forehead of Time.
A land-mark they rise : — to the stranger forlorn,
All night on the wild heath delay'd, 'Tis rapture to spy the young beauties of Morn
Unveiling behind their dark shade : The homeward-bound husbandman joys to behold,
On the line of the grey evening scene, Their branches yet gleaming with purple and gold,
And the sunset expiring between. *
The maidens that gather the fruits of the moor,* While weary and fainting they roam.
Through the blue dazzling distance of noon-light ex- plore The trees that remind them of home :
The children that range in the valley suspend Their sports and in ecstasy gaze,
- Bilberries, cluster-berries, and crane-berries.
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