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FRAGMENT FROM THE WANDERING JEW

The Elements respect their Maker's seal!
Still like the scathèd pine tree's height,
Braving the tempests of the night

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Have I 'scaped the flickering flame.
Like the scathed pine, which a monument stands
Of faded grandeur, which the brands
Of the tempest-shaken air
Have riven on the desolate heath;
Yet it stands majestic even in death,
And rears its wild form there.