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THE ANGEL OF THE WATERS.
Full flow'd Bethesda's mantling pool
While forth from hall and bower,
Throng'd the wan victims of disease
To test its healing power,
Yet still, in calm repose it lay,
Though many a straining eye
For its first, infant ripple watch'd,
With pain's impatient sigh.
'Tis troubled!—Man of science say,
What moves its mystic tide?
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