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From a (second) printed collection of glees by members of the Harmonic Society of Cambridge, 1800.

Lyrics: Samuel Taylor Coleridge

How long will ye round me be swelling,
O ye blue tumbling waves of the sea?
Not always in caves was my dwelling,
Nor beneath the cold blast of the tree.
Through the high-sounding halls of Cathloma,
In the steps of my beauty I strayed;
The warriors beheld Ninathoma
And they blessed the white-bosom'd maid.
A ghost! By my cavern it darted;
In moonbeams the spirit was dressed,
For lovely appear the departed,
When they visit the dreams of my rest,
But disturb'd by the tempest's commotion,
Fleet the shadowy forms of delight.
Ah cease, thou shrill blast of the ocean,
To howl through my cavern by night.

Charles Hague
(1769 - 1821)

How long will ye round me be swelling?

(A.T.B.)

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