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I stood on yonder rocky brow, *
And marvell’d at the Sybil's fane, When I was not what I am now.
My life was then untouch'd of pain ; And, as the breeze that stirr'd my hair,
My spirit freshened in the sky,
Lay closely to my loving eye,
As light upon its giddy base,
* The story is told during a walk around the Cascatelles of