Excerpt from Battle of Niagara, a Poem, Without Notes, And, Goldau, or the Maniac Harper
And the look of the minstrel was lifted and high: And the lights of the storm and the lights of the sky, While his robe was abroad on the breeze that went by, Were ¿ashing and wild in the... dark of his eye: A harp was before him - his hand in the air, Yet it paused ere it fell on his echoing lyre.
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