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ADDRESS TO THE GENIUS OF THE CAVES.
--- Hail kindred glooms!
Congenial horrors hail!
THOMPSON.
--- THOU spirit dread,
That hover'st o'er this rocky region erst,
With burning sulphur, and volcanic streams
Of fire extinct, all hail!- thou whose loud shriek
Midst scouling tempests, oft the listening swain
Hast heard agast; oft in slow pacing clouds,
That drag their sweeping trains o'er Gregareth's steep,
Has trac'd thy wild fantastic form. Thy steps
Through many a rugged, uncough path, well pleas'd
I follow, whether from the dread abyss
Of some unfathom'd cavern,[1] Echo's groans,
With many a dreary pause between, from rock
To rock rebound, and break upon my ear
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