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Upon Westminster Bridge

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Upon Westminster Bridge by William Wordsworth
Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!

The Springtime of Dion Fortune

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