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That bring the fog and mist.
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'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
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Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist.
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Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious sun uprist:
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Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow!
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For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow.
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And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe:
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Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo!
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And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow,
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Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea.
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The sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he,
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