LXI.

And thence through Berlin, Dresden, and the like,

Until he reached the castellated Rhine:—

Ye glorious Gothic scenes! how much ye strike

All phantasies, not even excepting mine!

A grey wall, a green ruin, rusty pike,

Make my soul pass the equinoctial line

Between the present and past worlds, and hover

Upon their airy confines, half-seas-over.

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