Melford” as her ideal, “Long Melford” being the good
Bore lightly off the many starry fires;
And not far otherwise we often see
. . . . . .
And the still lakes and the perennial streams
Exhale a mist, and even as earth herself
Is seen at times to smoke, when first at dawn
The light of the sun, the many-rayed, begins
To redden into gold, over the grass
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