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By the halo round 



In a magic circle bound, 



Thy beams retire ; 



And, mix'd and temper'd there 



With exhalations breath'd from Saturn's fphere, 



Contagious blafl and livid death tranfpire. 



But now, on milder purpofe bent, 



Thou bid'fl the noxious damps recede, 



And forth thy gracious meflengers are fent, 



With filver light to clothe the mead ; 



Along the dewy green. 



Where fairy prints are feen. 



Along the mountain's hoary fide. 



Along the ftreams that fmoothly glide, 



O'er the hamlet, o'er the lea, 



O'er the gently fwelling fea. 



Where they tremble, where they play, 



O'er the fpire, and caftle grey, 



The waving trees, the fullen wafte, 



Thy beams, a gorgeous robe, their floating tiflue caft. 



VIII. 



To thee the fcreech-owl cries, 



The wolf to thee, and all the tribes of pre^ 



That fhun the honeft day. 



And flirink from human eyes. 



They call thee not to gild the midnight hour ; 



They deprecate thy pow'r ; 



They 



I 



