Dark HORROR, hear my call!Stern Genius hear from thy retreatOn some old sepulchre's moss-cankered seat,Beneath the Abbey's ivied wallThat trembles o'er its shade;Where wrapt in midnight gloom, alone,Thou lovest to lie and hearThe roar of waters near,And listen to the deep dull groanOf some perturbed spriteBorne fitful on the heavy gales of night.Or whether o'er some wide waste hillThou mark'st
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