Chapter XI
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The world is all before me; I but ask
Of nature that with which she will comply--
It is but in her summer sun to bask,
To mingle with the quiet of her sky,
To see her gentle fare without a mask,
And never gaze on it with apathy.
She was my early friend, and now shall be
My sister--till I look again on thee.
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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 17, No. 474, Supplementary NumberChapter XI
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