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Imagination! at whose great command

Arise unnumber'd images of things,

Thy hourly offspring; thou who canst at will
People with air-born shapes the silent wood
And solitary vale, thy own domain,

Where Contemplation haunts; oh! come, invok'd,
To waft me on thy many-tinctur'd wing
O'er earth's extended spice

THE EXCURSION.

LONDON:

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY

G. CAWTHORN, BRITISH LIBRARY, STRAND.