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Nought but the Topes themselves remain to mock
Time's ceaseless efforts; yet they proudly stand
Silent and lasting up their parent rock,
And still as cities under magic's wand;
Till curious Saxons, from a distant land,
Unlock'd the treasures of two thousand years;

And the lone scene is peopled ;-here a band
Of music wakes the echoes; there the cheers
Of multitudes, alive with human hopes and fears.

THE END.

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