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In wood and wild, ye warbling throng, Your heavy loss deplore; Now half extinct your powers of song, Sweet Echo is no more. Ye jarring, screeching things around, Scream your discordant joys; Now half your din of tuneless sound With Echo silent lies. - SECOND VERSION Ye warblers of the vocal grove, Your heavy loss deplore; Now half your melody is lost, Sweet Echo is no more. Each shrieking, screaming bird and beast, Exalt your tuneless voice; Half your deformity is hid, Here Echo silent lies.
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