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N that strange region, dim and grey, Which lies so very far away, Whose chronicles in 'prose or rhyme Are dated Once upon a time, There was a land where silence reigned So deep, — the ear it almost pained To hear the gnat's shrill clarion blow, Though he Sleep's herald is we know. Scarce would you deem that calm profound, Unbroken by the ghost of sound, Had, like a sudden curtain, dropt Upon a revel, instant stopt, That laugh and shout and merry rout And hunting song had all died out, Stricken to silence at a touch A single touch! It was not much! I'll tell you how it came about.
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