I stood upon a heaven-cleaving turret Which overlooked a wide Metropolis-- And in the temple of my heart my Spirit Lay prostrate, and with parted lips did kiss The dust of Desolations [altar] hearth-- And with a voice too faint to falter It shook that trembling fane with its weak prayer `Twas noon,--the sleeping skies were blue The city...SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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