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Now ye appear, and the sun evermore riseth too soon.-----THOU art amazed, and dost point to the ocean. It seems to be burning,Flame-crested billows in play dart round our night-moving bark.Me it astonisheth not,--of the ocean was born Aphrodite,--Did not a flame, too, proceed from her for us, in her son?-----GLEAMING the ocean appear'd, the beauteous billows were smiling,

1827.*-----It matters not, I ween,

They the guest with kindly sips invite.