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Adel. Time pass’d as in dream, and oft I thought
That the dead warrior in his mountain grave
Slept unremember’d—then, by ruffian hands
Dragg’d from my hut, all tremblingly I follow’d—
Far in a sea-toss’d bark the ruffians bore me;—
A voice was in the wind, that swell’d the sails,—
That charm’d them ne’er to let their freight return!
Uril. A voice!—what voice?