"He spake, and pass'd, and Night without a breath,
Without a star drew on; and now I heard
The voice that in the springtime wandereth,
The crying of Dame Hera's shadowy bird;
And soon the silence of the trees was stirred
By the wise fowl of Pallas; and anigh,
More sweet than is a girl's first loving word,
The doves of Aphrodite made reply.
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