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"There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
the earth, and every common sight,
to me did seem
apparelled in celestial light,
the glory and the freshness of a dream (...)
The Rainbow comes and goes,
and lovely is the Rose,
the Moon doth with delight
look round her when the heavens are bare,
waters on a starry night
are beautiful and fair"
(William Wordsworth)
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