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Witness, ye lowing herds, who gave him milk;
Witness, ye flocks, whose woolly vestments far
Exceed soft India's cotton, or her silk;

Witness, with autumn charg'd, the nodding car,
That homeward came beneath sweet evening's
Or of September moons the radiance mild. [star,
O, hide thy head, abominable War!
Of crimes and ruffian idleness the child [vild!
From Heaven this life ysprung, from Hell thy glories
Nor from this deep retirement banish'd was
Th' amusing care of rural industry.
Still as with grateful change the seasons pass,
New scenes arise, new landskips strike the eye,
And all th' enliven'd country beautify:
Gay plains extend where marshes slept before;
O'er recent meads th' exulting streamlets fly;
Dark frowning heaths grow bright with Ceres'
store,
[shore.

And woods imbrown the steep, or wave along the

As nearer to his farm you made approach,
He polish'd nature with a finer hand:
Yet on her beauties durst not art incroach;
'Tis art's alone these beauties to expand.
In graceful dance immingled, o'er the land,
Pan, Paleas, Flora, and Pomona play'd:
Here too brisk gales the rude wild common fand
An happy place; where free, and unafraid,
Amid the flowering brakes each coyer creature
stray'd.

But in prime vigour what can last for ay?
That soul-enfeebling wizard Indolence,
I whilom sung, wrought in his works decay :
Spread far and wide was his curs'd influence;
Of public virtue much he dull'd the sense,
Ev'n much of private; ate our spirit out,
And fed our rank luxurious vices: whence
The land was overlaid with many a lout; [stout.
Not as old Fame reports, wise, generous, bold, and

A rage of pleasure madden'd every breast,
Down to the lowest lees the ferment ran :
To his licentious wish each must be blest,
With joy be fever'd; snatch it as he can.
Thus Vice the standard rear'd; her arrier-ban
Corruption call'd, and loud she gave the word,
"Mind, mind yourselves! why should the vulgar

man,

The lacquey be more virtuous than his lord?
Enjoy this span of life! 'tis all the gods afford."

The tidings reach'd to where in quiet hall,
The good old knight enjoy'd well-earn'd repose.
"Come, come, sir Knight! thy children on thee
call:

Come, save us yet, ere ruin round us close!
The demon Indolence thy toils o'erthrows."
On this the noble colour stain'd his cheeks,
Indignant, glowing through the whitening snows
Of venerable eld; his eye full speaks [breaks
His ardent soul, and from his couch at once he
"I will," he cry'd "so help me God! destroy
That villain, Archimage.". His page then
He to him call'd, a fiery-footed boy, [straight
Benempt Dispatch. My steed be at the gate;
My bard attend; quick, bring the net of Fate."

He came, the bard, a little druid-wight,
Of wither'd aspect; but his eye was keen,
With sweetness mix'd. In russet brown bedight,
As is his sister of the copses green,
He crept along, unpromising of mien.
Gross he who judges so. His soul was fair,
Bright as the children of yon azure sheen.
True comeliness, which nothing can impair,
Dwells in the mind: all else is vanity and glare.
"Come," quoth the knight, "a voice has reach'd
mine ear:

The demon Indolence threats overthrow
To all that to mankind is good and dear:
Come, Philomelus; let us instant go,
O'erturn his bowers, and lay his castle low.
Those men, those wretched men! who will be
slaves,

Must drink a bitter wrathful cup of woe:
But some there be, thy song, as from their graves,
Shall raise. Thrice happy he! who without rigour

saves.

Issuing forth, the knight bestrode his steed,
Of ardent bay, and on whose front a star
Shone blazing bright sprung from the generous
breed

That whirl of active day the rapid car,
He prane'd along, disdaining gate or bar.
Meantime, the bard on milk-white palfrey rode;
An honest sober beast, that did not mar
His meditations, but full softly trode ;
And much they moraliz'd as thus yfere they
yode.

They talk'd of virtue, and of human bliss.
What else so fit for man to settle well?
And still their long researches met in this,

This truth of truths, which nothing can refel:

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From virtue's fount the purest joys out-well, Sweet rills of thought that cheer the conscious soul; [Hell, While vice pours forth the troubled streams of The which, howe'er disguis'd, at last with dole Will, through the tortur'd breast, their fiery torrent roll."

At length it dawn'd, that fatal valley gay,

O'er which high wood-crown'd hills their summits

rear.

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clear,

And tufted groves to shade the meadow bed, Sweet airs and song; and without hurry all seem'd glad.

"As God shall judge me, knight, we must forgive"
(The half enraptur'd Philomelus cry'd)
"The frail good man deluded here to live,
And in these groves his musing fancy hide.
Ah! nought is pure. It cannot be deny'd,
That virtue still some tincture has of vice,
And vice of virtue. What should then betide
But that our charity be not too nice?

This net was twisted by the sisters three; [late Come, let us those we can to real bliss entice."

Which when once cast o'er harden'd wretch, too

Repentance comes; replevy cannot be

From the strong iron grasp of vengeful Destiny.

The nightingale.

The bard obey'd; and taking from his side, Where it in seemly sort depending hung, His British harp, its speaking strings he try'd, The which with skilful touch he deftly strung, Till tinkling in clear symphony they rung. Then, as he felt the Muses come along, Light o'er the chords his raptur'd hand he flung, And play'd a prelude to his rising song: The whilst, like midnight mute, ten thousands round him throng

"Ay, sicker" (quoth the knight) "all flesh is To pleasant sin and joyous dalliance bent; [frail, But let not brutish vice of this avail, And think to 'scape deserved punishment. Justice were cruel weakly to relent; From Mercy's self she got her sacred glaive; Grace be to those who can, and will, repent; But penance long, and dreary, to the slave, Who must in floods of fire his gross foul spirit lave." Thus, holding high discourse, they came to where The cursed carle was at his wonted trade; Still tempting heedless men into his snare, In witching wise, as I before have said. But when he saw, in goodly geer array'd, The grave majestic knight approaching nigh, And by his side the bard so sage and staid,

His countenance fell; yet oft his anxious eye Mark'd them, like wily fox who roosted cock doth spy.

Nathless, with feign'd respect, he bade give back
The rabble-rout, and welcom'd them full kind;
Struck with the noble twain, they were not slack
His orders to obey, and fall behind.
Then he resum'd his song; and unconfin'd,
Pour'd all his music, ran through all his strings:
With magic dust their eyne he tries to blind,
And virtue's tender airs o'er weakness flings.
What pity base his song who so divinely sings!

Elate in thought, he counted them his own,
They listen'd so intent with fix'd delight:
But they instead, as if transmew'd to stone,
Marvel'd he could with such sweet art unite
The lights and shades of manners, wrong and
right.

Meantime, the silly crowd the charm devour,
Wide pressing to the gate. Swift, on the knight
He darted fierce, to drag him to his bower,
Who backening shunn'd his touch, for well he knew
its power.

As in throng'd amphitheatre, of old, The wary Retiarius trapp'd his foe: Ev'n so the knight, returning on him bold, At once involv'd him in the net of woe, Whereof I mention made not long ago. Inrag'd at first, he scorn'd so weak a jail, And leapt, and flew, and flounced to and fro; But when he found that nothing could avail, He set him felly down and gnaw'd his bitter nail. Alarm'd, th' inferior demons of the place Rais'd rueful shrieks and hideous yells around; Black stormy clouds deform'd the welkin's face, And from beneath was heard a wailing sound, As of infernal sprites in cavern bound; A solemn sadness every creature strook, And lightnings flash'd, and horrour rock'd the ground:

[look, Huge crowds on crowds out-pour'd, with blemish'd As if on time's last verge this frame of things had shook.

Soon as the short liv'd tempest was yspent,
Steam'd from the jaws of vext Avernus' hole,
And hush'd the hubbub of the rabblement,

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Sir Industry the first calm moment stole. [shoal, There must" (he cry'd) "amidst so vast a Be some who are not tainted at the heart, Not poison'd quite by this same villain's bowl: Come then, my bard, thy heavenly fire impart; Touch soul with soul, till forth the latent spirit start."

Thus, ardent, burst his strain.--

"Ye helpless race, Dire-labouring here to smother reason's ray, That lights our Maker's image in our face, And gives us wide o'er Earth unquestion'd sway; What is th' ador'd Supreme Perfection, say? What, but eternal never-resting soul, Almighty power, and all-directing day; By whom each atom stirs, the planets roll; Who fills, surrounds, informs, and agitates the

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whole.

"Come, to the beaming God your hearts unfold? Draw from its fountain life! "Tis thence, alone, We can excel. Up from unfeeling mould, To seraphs burning round th' Almighty's throne, Life rising still on life, in higher tone, Perfection forms, and with perfection bliss. In universal nature this clear shown, Nor needeth proof; to prove it were, I wis, To prove the beauteous world excels the brute abys "Is not the field, with lively culture green, A sight more joyous than the dead morass? Do not the skies, with active ether clean, And fann'd by sprightly zephyrs, far surpass The foul November fogs, and slumberous mass, With which sad Nature veils her drooping face? Does not the mountain-stream, as clear as glass, Gay dancing on, the putrid pool disgrace? [racc. The same in all holds true, but chief in human. "It was not by vile loitering in ease

That Greece obtain'd the brighter palm of art, That soft yet ardent Athens learnt to please, To keen the wit, and to sublime the heart, In all supreme! complete in every part! It was not thence majestic Rome arose, And o'er the nations shook her conquering dart: For sluggard's brow the laurel never grows; Renown is not the child of indolent repose.

"Had unambitious mortals minded nought,
But in loose joy their time to wear away;
Had they alone the lap of dalliance songht,
Pleas'd on her pillow their dull heads to lay,
Rude Nature's state had been our state to-day;
No cities c'er their towery fronts had rais'd,
No arts had made us opulent and gay;
With brother-brutes the human race had graz'd;
None e'er had soar'd to fame, none honour'd been,
none prais'd.

Great Homer's song had never fir'd the breast
To thirst of glory, and heroic deeds;
Sweet Maro's Muse, sunk in inglorious rest,
Had silent slept amid the Mincian reeds :
The wits of modern time had told their beads,
And monkish legions been their only strains;
Our Milton's Eden had lain wrapt in weeds,
Our Shakespeare stroll'd and laugh'd with War-
[plains

wick swains,

Ne had my master Spencer charm'd his Mulla's

"Dumb too had been the sage historic Muse,
And perish'd all the sons of ancient fame;
Those starry lights of virtue, that diffuse
Through the dark depth of time their vivid flame,
Had att been lost with such as have no name.
Who then had scorn'd his ease for others' good?
Who then had toil'd rapacions men to tame?
Who in the public breach devoted stood,
And for his country's cause been prodigal of blood?
"But should your hearts to fame unfeeling be,
If right I read, your pleasure all require :
Then hear how best may be obtain'd this fee,
How best enjoy'd this nature's wide desire.
Toil, and be glad! let Industry inspire
Into your quicken'd limbs her buoyant breath!
Who does not act is dead; absorpt entire
In miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath :
O leaden-hearted men, to be in love with death!
"Ah! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven,
When drooping health and spirits go amiss?
How tasteless then whatever can be given?
Health is the vital principle of bliss,
And exercise of health. In proof of this,
Behold the wretch, who slugs his life away,
Soon swallow'd in disease's sad abyss;
While he whom toil has brac'd, or manly play,
Has light as air each limb, each thought as clear
as day.

"O, who can speak the vigorous joy of health!
Unclogg'd the body, unobscur'd the mind:
The morning rises gay, with pleasing stealth,
The temperate evening falls serene and kind.
In health the wiser brutes true gladness find.
See how the younglings frisk along the meads,
As May comes on, and wakes the balmy wind;
Rampant with life, their joy all joy exceeds:
Yet what but high-strung health this dancing plea-

Saunce breeds?

"But here, instead, is foster'd every ill,
Which or distemper'd minds or bodies know.
Come then, my kindred spirits! do not spill
Your talents here. This place is but a show,
Whose charms delude you to the den of woe:
Come, follow me, I will direct you right,
Where pleasure's roses, void of serpents, grow,
Sincere as sweet; come, follow this good knight,
And you will bless the day that brought him to
your sight.

"Some he will lead to courts, and some to camps;
To senates some, and public sage debates,
Where, by the solemn gleam of midnight-lamps,
The world is pois'd, and manag'd mighty states;
To high discovery some, that new-creates
The face of Earth; some to the thriving mart;
Some to the rural reign, and softer fates;
To the sweet Muses some, who raise the heart;
All glory shall be yours, all nature, and all art.
"There are, I see, who listen to my lay,
Who wretched sigh for virtue, but despair.
'All may be done (methinks I hear them say)
'Ev'n death despis'd by generous actions fair;
All, but for those who to these bowers repair,
Their every power dissolv'd in luxury,
To quit of torpid sluggishness the lair,
And from the powerful arms of sloth get free.
'Tis rising from the dead-Alas!It cannot be !'

VOL. XII.

"Would you then learn to dissipate the band
Of these huge threatening difficulties dire,
That in the weak man's way like lions stand,
His soul appall, and damp his rising fire?
Resolve, resolve, and to be men aspire.
Exert that noblest privilege, alone,

Here to mankind indulg'd: controul desire:
Let godlike Reason, from her sovereign throne,
Speak the commanding word-I will-and it is
done.

"Heavens! can you then thus waste, in shame-
Your few important days of tryal here? [ful wise,
Heirs of eternity! yborn to rise

Through endless states of being, still more near
To bliss approaching, and perfection clear,
Can you renounce a fortune so sublime,
Such glorious hopes, your backward steps to steer,
And roll, with vilest brutes, thro' mud and slime?
No! no!-Your heaven-touch'd heart disdains the
sordid crime!"
[the crowd,
"Enough! enough!" they cry'd-straight from
The better sort on wings of transport fly:
As when amid the lifeless summits proud
Of Alpine cliffs, where to the gelid sky
Snows pil'd on snows in wintery torpour lie,
The rays divine of vernal Phoebus play;
Th' awaken'd heaps, in streamlets from on high,
Rous'd into action, lively leap away, [gay."
Glad warbling through the vales, in their new being
Not less the life, the vivid joy serene,
That lighted up these new-created men,
Than that which wings th' exulting spirit clean,
When, just deliver'd from his fleshly den,
It soaring secks its native skies agen:
How light its essence! how unclogg'd its powers,
Beyond the blazon of my mortal pen!
Ev'n so we glad forsook the sinful bowers,
Ev'n such enraptur'd life, snch energy was ours.
But far the greater part, with rage inflam'd,
"Dire-mutter'd curses, and blasphem'd high Jove.
"Ye sons of hate!" (they bitterly exclaim'd)
"What brought you to this seat of peace and love?
While with kind nature, here amid the grove,
We pass'd the harmless sabbath of our time,
What to disturb it could, fell men, emove
Your barbarous hearts? Is happiness a crime?
Then do the fiends of Hell rule in yon Heaven suð-
lime."
[wrath)

"Ye impious wretches," (quoth the knight in
"Your happiness behold!" Then straight a waud
He wav'd, an anti-magic power that hath,
Truth from illusive falsehood to command.
Sudden the landskip sinks on every hand;
The pure quick streams are marshy puddles
found;

On baleful heaths the groves all blacken'd stand;
And, o'er the weedy foul abhorred ground,
Snakes, adders, toads, each loathsome creature
crawls around.

And here and there, on trees by lightning scath'd,
Unhappy wights who loathed life yhung;
Or, in fresh gore and recent murder bath'd,
They weltering lay; or else, infuriate flung
Into the gloomy flood, while ravens sung
The funeral dirge, they down the torrent roll'd:
These, by distemper'd blood to madness stung,
Had doom'd themselves; whence oft, when night

control'd

The world, returning hither their sad spirits howl'd

Hh

Meantime a moving scene was open laid;
That lazar-house, I whilom in my lay
Depainted have, its horrours deep-display'd,
And gave unnumber'd wretches to the day,
Who tossing there in squalid misery lay.
Soon as of sacred light th' unwonted smile
Pour'd on these living catacombs its ray,
Through the drear caverns stretching many a
mile,

The sick up-rais'd their heads, and dropp'd their woes awhile.

"O, Heaven!" (they cry'd)" and do we once

more see

Yon blessed Sun, and this green Earth so fair? Are we from noisome damps of pest-house free?

And drink our souls the swect ethereal air?
O, thou! or knight, or god! who holdest there
That fiend, oh, keep him in eternal chains!
But what for us, the children of despair,
Brought to the brink of Hell, what hope re-
mains?

Repentance does itself but aggravate our pains."

The gentle knight, who saw their rueful case,
Let fall adown his silver beard some tears.
"Certes" (quoth he) "it is not ev'n in grace,
T" undo the past, and eke your broken years:
Nathless, to nobler worlds Repentance rears,
With humble hope, her eye; to her is given
A power the truly contrite heart that cheers;
She quells the brand by which the rocks are
riven;

She more than merely softens, she rejoices Heaven."

"Then patient bear the sufferings you have earn'd,

And by these sufferings purify the mind;
Let wisdom be by past misconduct learn'd:
Or pious die, with penitence resign'd;
And to a life more happy and refin'd,
Doubt not, you shall, new creatures, yet arise.
Till then, you inay expect in me to find

One who will wipe your sorrow from your eyes, One who will soothe your pangs, and wing you to

the skies."

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That villain's gifts will cost you many a groan;
In dolorous mansion long you must bemoan
His fatal charms, and weep your stains away:
Till, soft and pure as infant goodness grown,
You feel a perfect change: then, who can say,
What grace may yet shine forth in Heaven's eternal
day?"

This said, his powerful wand he wav'd anew :
Instant, a glorious angel-train descends,
The Charities, to wit, of rosy hue;
Sweet love their looks a gentle radiance lends,
And with seraphic flame compassion blends.
At once, delighted, to their charge they fly:
When, lo! a goodly hospital ascends;

In which they bade each lenient aid be nigh, That could the sick-bed smoothe of that sad com

pany.

It was a worthy edyfying sight,

And gives to human-kind peculiar grace,
To see kind hands attending day and night,
With tender ministry, from place to place.
Some prop the head; some from the pallid face
Wipe off the faint cold dews weak nature sheds;
Some reach the healing draught: the whilst, to
chace

The fear supreme, around their soften'd beds, Some holy man by prayer all opening Heaven dispreds.

Attended by a glad acclaiming train,

Of those he rescued had from gaping Hell, Then turn'd the knight; and, to his hall again Soft-pacing, sought of Peace the mossy cell: Yet down his cheeks the gems of pity felt, To see the helpless wretches that remain'd, There left through delves and deserts dire to yell; [stain'd, Amaz'd, their looks with pale dismay were And spreading wide their hands they meek repentance feign'd.

But, ah! their scorned day of grace was past:
For (horrible to tell!) a desert wild [vast,
Before them stretch'd, bare, comfortless, and
With gibbets, bones, and carcases defil'd.
There nor trim field, nor lively culture smil'd;
Nor waving shade was seen, nor fountain fair;
But sands abrupt on sands lay loosely pil'd,
Through which they floundering toil'd with pain-
ful care,
[less air.
Whilst Phoebus smote them sore, and fir'd the cloud-

Then, varying to a joyless land of bogs,
The sadden'd country a grey waste appear'd;
Where nought but putrid streams and noisome
For ever hung on drizzly Auster's beard; [fogs
Or else the ground by piercing Caurus sear'd,
Was jagg'd with frost, or heap'd with glazed

snow:

Through these extremes a ceaseless round they

steer'd,

By cruel fiends still hurry'd to and fro, Gaunt Beggary, and Scorn, with many hell-hounds

moe.

The first was with base dunghill rags yclad,
Tainting the gale, in which they flutter'd light;
Of morbid hue his features, sunk, and sad;
His hollow eyne shook forth a sickly light;
And o'er his lank jaw-bone, in piteous plight,
His black rough beard was matted rank and
vile;

Direful to see! an heart-appalling sight! Meantime foul scurf and blotches him defile; And dogs, where-e'er he went, still barked all the while.

The other was a fell despightful fiend:

Hell holds none worse in baleful bower below: By pride, and wit, and rage, and rancour, keen'd;'

Of man alike, if good or bad, the foe: With nose up-turn'd, he always made a show As if he smelt some nauseous scent; his eye Was cold, and keen, like blast from boreal snow; And taunts he casten forth most bitterly. Such were the twain that off drove this ungodly fry.

Ev'n so through Brentford town, a town of mud, | Deep in her anxious heart, revolving sad:
An herd of brisły swine is prick'd along;
The filthy beasts, that never chew the cud,
Still grunt, and squeak, and sing their troublous

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As

BY DR. MORRELL.

when the silk-worm, erst the tender care Of Syrian maidens, 'gins for to unfold From his sleek sides, that now much sleeker are The glossy treasure, and soft threads of gold; Ir various turns, and many a winding fold, He spins his web, and as he spins decays; Till, within circles infinite enroll'd, He rests supine, imprison'd in the maze, The which himself did make, the gathering of his days.

So thou, they say, from thy prolific brain, A Castle, hight of Indolence, didst raise; Where listless sprites, withouten care or pain, In idle pleasaunce spend their jocund days, Nor heed rewardful toil, nor seeken praise. Thither thou didst repair in luckless hour; And lulled with thine own enchanting lays, Didst lie adown, entranced in the bower, The which thyself didst make, the gathering of thy

power.

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Bare was her throbbing bosom to the gale, [blew;
That hoarse, and hollow, from the bleak surge
Loose flow'd her tresses; rent her azure robe.
Hung o'er the deep from her majestic brow
She tore the laurel, and she tore the bay.
Nor ceas'd the copious grief to bathe her cheek;
Nor ceas'd her sobs to murmur to the main.
Peace discontented nigh, departing, stretch'd
Her dove-like wings. And War,though greatlyrous'd,
Yet mourns his fetter'd hands. While thus the

queen

Of nations spoke: and what she said the Muse
Recorded, faithful in unbidden verse.
"Ev'n not yon sail, that, from the sky-mixt wave,
Dawns on the sight, and wafts the royal youth',
A freight of future glory to my shore;
Ev'n not the fluttering view of golden days,
And rising periods yet of bright renown,
Beneath the parents, and their endless line
Through late revolving time, can sooth my rage;
While, unchastis'd, th' insulting Spaniard dares
Infest the trading flood, full of vain war
Despise my navies, and my merchants seize ;
As, trusting to false peace, they fearless roam
The world of waters wild; made, by the toil,
And liberal blood of glorious ages, mine:
Nor bursts my sleeping thunder on their head.
Whence this unwonted patience? this weak doubt?
This tame beseeching of rejected peace?
This meek forbearance? this unnative fear,
To generous Britons never known before?
And sail'd my fleets for this, on Indian tides
To float, unactive, with the veering winds?
The mockery of war! while hot disease,
For action ardent; and amid the deep,
And sloth distemper'd, swept off burning crowds,
Inglorious, sunk them in a watery grave.
There now they lie beneath the rolling flood,
Far from their friends, and country unaveng'd;
And back the drooping war-ship comes again,
Dispirited, and thin; her sons asham'd
Thus idly to review their native shore;
With not one glory sparkling in their eye,
One triumph on their tongue. A passenger,
The violated merchant comes along;
That far-sought wealth, for which the noxious gale
He drew, and sweat beneath equator suns,
By lawless force detain'd; a force that soon
Would melt away, and every spoil resign,
Were once the British lion heard to roar.
Whence is it that the proud Iberian thus,
In their own well-asserted element,

Dares rouse to wrath the masters of the main ?
Who told him, that the big incumbent war
Would not, ere this, have roll'd his trembling ports
In smoky ruin? and his guilty stores,
Won by the ravage of a butcher'd world,
Yet unaton'd, sunk in the swallowing deep,
Or led the glittering prize into the Thames?
"There was a time (oh, let my languid sons
Resume their spirit at the rousing thought!)
When all the pride of Spain, in one dread fleet,
Swell'd o'er the labouring surge; like a whole

heaven

Of clouds, wide roll'd before the boundless breeze.
Gaily the splendid armament along
Exultant plough'd, reflecting a red gleam,

1 Frederic.

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