Hark! Hark! my soul, angelic songs are swellingO’er earth’s green fields and ocean’s wave-beat shore;How sweet the truth those blessed strains are tellingOf that new life when sin shall be no more.
Stretched in front of a bay of Sicily lies an islet over against wavebeat Plemyrium; they of old called it Ortygia. Hither Alpheus the river of Elis, so rumour runs, hath cloven a secret passage beneath the sea, and now through thy well-head, Arethusa, mingles with the Sicilian waves.
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