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Turns, like a serpent writhing in its course;
And, rarified by distance, kissing heaven,
In many noble and fantastic shapes,
A giant range of purple mountains sleeps.
Grand is the scene, and in the centre stands
The tomb of Osborne—after many years
Of happiness and friendship, Lora rais'd
This plain memorial, and her children plac'd
A mother's near, to tell succeeding years
Their talents and their virtue. They themselves
More forcibly express the worth of both,
For they are wise and good, without a shade
Of cold severity or selfish pride."