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ODE ON THE DAY OF THE CORONATION
High on the noon and summit of the year
Thou art anointed king.
Nature disdains not braveries: why should we
The sombre foil to all her splendours be?
Let London rustle with rich apparelling,
And all the ways, with festal faces lined,
Casement and coign and fluttering balcony,
Wave welcome on the wind.
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