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Poems by Samuel Rogers
page 34 of 159 (21%)

I came to the place of my birth, and cried, "The friends of my Youth,
where are they?"--And an echo answered, "Where are they?" From an
Arabic MS.

NOTE b.

_Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise!_

When a traveller, who was surveying the ruins of Rome, expressed a
desire to possess some relic of its antient grandeur, Poussin, who
attended him, stooped down, and, gathering up a handful of earth
shining with small grains of porphyry, "Take this home," said he,
"for your cabinet; and say boldly, _Questa รจ Roma Antica_."

NOTE c.

_The church-yard yews round which his fathers sleep_;

Every man, like Gulliver in Lilliput, is fastened to some spot of
earth, by the thousand small threads which habit and association are
continually stealing over him. Of these, perhaps, one of the
strongest is here alluded to.

When the Canadian Indians were once solicited to emigrate, "What!"
they replied, "shall we say to the bones of our fathers, Arise, and
go with us into a foreign land?"--Hist. des Indes, par Raynal,
vi. 21.

NOTE d.
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