XXIX.

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Dauntless, triumphant, reckless of alarms,
O Queen that laughest Time and Fear to scorn,
Death, like a bridegroom, tosses in thine arms.
The rapture of your fellowship is borne
Like music on the wind. I hear the blare,
The calling of the undesisting horn,
And tremors as of trumpets on the air.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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