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Most musical of mourners, weep anew! Not all to that bright station dared to climb:
And happier they their happiness who knew,
Whose tapers yet burn through that night The shadow of white Death; and at the
From her ambrosial rest the fading Leave me not!" cried Urania; her distress Roused Death; Death rose and smiled, and met her vain caress.
Splendor sprung:
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