"'Paris, give me the prize, and thou shalt reign
O'er many lordly peoples, far and wide,
From them that till the black and crumbling plain,
Where the sweet waters of Aegyptus glide,
To those that on the Northern marches ride,
And the Ceteians, and the blameless men
That round the rising-place of Morn abide,
And all the dwellers in the Asian fen.
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