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SHIPWRECK

'Til soleht! On this lonely steep,

Beneath this watch-tow'r's desolated wall,

Where mystic shapes the wonderer appall,

I rest; and view below the desert deep,

As through teht

Gleaht

With loud mysterious force the billoeep,

And sullen roar the surges, far below

In the still pauses of the gust I hear

The voice of spirits, rising sweet and slow,

And oft a the clouds their forale,

And in the distant ray what gli sail

Bends to the storm?--Now sinks the note of fear!

Ah! wretched ht ye on your way!

From these lines it appeared, that Valancourt had visited the tower;

that he had probably been here on the preceding night, for it was such