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EFFUSION XX.
TO THE AUTHOR OF THE "ROBBERS."
SCHILLER![1] that hour I would have wish'd to die,
If thro' the shudd'ring midnight I had sent
From the dark dungeon of the tower time-rent
That fearful voice, a famish'd Father's cry
Left in some after moment aught more mean
Might stamp me mortal! A triumphant shout
Black Horror scream'd, and all her goblin rout
Diminish'd shrunk from the more with'ring scene!
Ah Bard tremendous in sublimity!
Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood
Wand'ring at eve with finely-frenzied eye
Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood!
Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood:
Then weep aloud in a wild extacy!
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