"Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul."
"Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that ofttimes hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn."
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Source: Ode to a Nightingale l. 61 (1820)
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