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Whilst reverent yet
I stood before the Muse, Her further speech
Attending with bowed head; and durst not gaze,
Too rashly on Stature above the human mould,
Unveiled; the vestal from the Treasury brought,
To me unwist, and hanged about my neck,
A gem-stone bright, which shining of itself,
Should light before our feet, in Únderworlds Voyage.
Nor least, She lady, in táking further thought,
Bestowed on mine unworth, the walking-staff

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In Her high hand; to úphold in dread paths,
My steps.