Chapter XXI
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Or whence, the sounds are brought from, and their power,
Though brief, is boundless. That far, future home,
Oft dream'd of, beckons near--it's rose-wreathed bower,
And cloudless skies before us: we become
Changed on the instant--all gold leaf and gilding:
This is, in vulgar phrase, call'd "castle building."
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Fanny, with Other PoemsChapter XXI
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