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[From palaces oft] So from the palace happy quiet flies;
While [gentle] rest dwells in the lowly] rest's calm mansion is the sheltered cot;
[Where] When cares disturb the mind sleep shuns the eyes,
Sleep, [rare] [not] the Monarch's [oft] but the peasant's lot;
Tho' on a couch of down proud Osman lies
[Sweet sleep] Repose his weary eye-lids visit not:
'Twas dawn, – the Star of Morning [more] palely shed
Her beams, when o'er him slumbers faintly spread.
The great Arch-fiend expelled from Heaven of old,
Who falsehood frames, & bids deceit abound,
His , which gorgeous cloth of woven gold,
A gift from distant India, curtain'd round,
Approached; – a feigned shape of human mould
His art bestowed, and voice of human sound;
The form of Mahomet himself he took,
And to the sleeping Monarch thus he spoke.
"Reclining on they soft and bed.
"This is no fitting time, thy Son, to taste
"Oblivious sleep, blushing red
"Heralds the morn; the pale stars sink to rest,
"The sun uprises bright; Awake! and lead
"Those conquering bands who wait they high :
"Awake! and let thy great example till,
"Sloth cannot in the minds of heroes dwell.
Identifier: | JB/110/089/003 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
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110 |
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089 |
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003 |
the war of chocim / a historical poem / by krasicki |
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collectanea |
4 |
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recto |
a1 / / / |
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[[watermarks::[motif]]] |
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36079 |
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