How beauteous the pale rocks above the shore
Uplift their bleak and furrow'd aspect high!
How proudly desolate their foreheads, hoar,
That meet the earliest sunbeam of the sky!
Bound to yon dusky mart, with pennants gay,
The tall bark on the winding water's line,
Between the river cliffs plies her hard way,
And peering on the sight the white sails shine.
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