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And thou, my friend !(19)— since unavailing woe
While Glory crowns so many a meaner crest!
Oh, known the earliest, and esteem'd the most!
frail frame return to whence it rose, And mourn'd and mourner lie united in
Lands that contain the monuments of Eld,
END OF CANTO I.
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage.
that bade thy worship to expire:
Of men who never felt the sacred glow That thoughts of thee and thine on polish'd breasts bestow.(2)