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“NEAR ANIO’S STREAM, I SPIED A GENTLE DOVE”
Near Anio’s stream,[119] I spied a gentle Dove
Perched on an olive branch, and heard her cooing
’Mid new-born blossoms that soft airs were wooing,
While all things present told of joy and love.
But restless Fancy left that olive grove 5
To hail the exploratory Bird renewing
Hope for the few, who, at the world’s undoing,
On the great flood were spared to live and move.