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Song: ‘The winds, as at their hour of birth’

         
      The winds, as at their hour of birth,
           Leaning upon the ridged sea,
      Breathed low around the rolling earth
           With mellow preludes, ‘We are free.’

      The streams, through many a lilied row
           Down-carolling to the crisped sea,
      Low-tinkled with a bell-like flow
           Atween the blossoms, ‘We are free.’
       


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