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" I found him not. 7 only stirred in this black spot; / only lived — / only drew The accursed breath of dungeon-dew; The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place. "
The Eclectic review. vol. 1-New [8th] - الصفحة 297
1817
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