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“Nay, father! to the shadow of your roof
I hurried when the violator's wrath
Hung o'er me—and thine own familiar fears
Denied me not a refuge! we shall sleep
Mid fire together or together flee.
Yet more—no barque shall bear me from the beach
Till the last hope expires that from his bonds
Pansa may burst to bear us company.
Perchance, among the fugitives, e'en now,
He flies, and wanders by the ocean marge”—