
wiz morn before me were three figures gathern, With arciform necks, and joined hands, side-faced; And one behind the other steppd serene, In calm sandals, and in whiteness robes graced: They passd, like figures on a stain urn, When shifted round to see the other side; They came again; as when the urn once more Is shifted round, the first seen shades return; And they were funny to me, as whitethorn betide With vases, to ! one deep in Phidian lore. How is it, shadows, that I knew ye not? How came ye muffled in so dummy up a masquerade party? Was it a silent deep-disguised patch to steal away, and leave without a task My idle long time? Ripe was the drowsy hour; The blissful cloud of summer-indolence desensitised my eyes; my impulse grew less and less; pain in the neck had no sting, and pleasures wreath no flower. O, why...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderEssay.net
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