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The path lies o'er the sea, Invisible: and from the land we went, As to a floating city steering in, And gliding up her streets, as in a dream, So smoothly, silently by many a dome, Mosque-like, and many a stately portico, The statues ranged along an azure sky; By many a pile, in more than Eastern pride, Of old the residence of merchant kings; The fronts of some, tho' time had shatter'd them, Still glowing with the richest hues of art, As tho' the wealth within them had run o'er."
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