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Xiii.

Methinks, O friend, I hear thee say,
     “In vain the human heart we mock;
Bring living guests who love the day,
     Not ghosts who fly at crow of cock!
The herbs we share with flesh and blood
     Are better than ambrosial food
With laurelled shades.” I grant it, nothing loath,
     But doubly blest is he who can partake of both.

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