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Dimpling Quotes
Awake, ye West Winds, through the lonely dale, And Fancy, to thy fairy bower betake; Even now, with balmy freshness breathes the gale, Dimpling with downy wing the stilly lake; Through the pale willows faltering whispers wake, And Evening comes with locks bodropp'd with dew; On Desmond's mouldering turrets slowly shake The trembling rye-grass and the harehell blue, And ever and anon fair Mulla's plaints renew.
William Julius Mickle