was still war in the land. Portugal indeed had just passed
When heard through unpathed groves and forest deeps
And woodsy meadows, through the untrod haunts
Of shepherd folk and spots divinely still.
Thus time draws forward each and everything
Little by little unto the midst of men,
And reason uplifts it to the shores of light.
These tunes would soothe and glad the minds of mortals
When sated with food,- for songs are welcome then.
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- mud-banks as the tide falls. They occasionally possess
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- An instant he hesitated. Through the corridor ahead of
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