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"Our work," said I, "was well begun;
Then, from thy breast what thought,
Beneath so beautiful a sun,
So sad a sigh has brought?
A second time did Matthew stop,
And fixing still his eye
Upon the eastern mountain-top
To me he made reply.
Yon cloud with that long purple cleft
Brings fresh into my mind
A day like this which I have left
Full thirty years behind.
And on that slope of springing corn
The self-same crimson hue
Fell from the sky that April morn,
The same which now I view!
