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| | Wordsworth, William. 1888. Complete Poetical Works. |
 | | this hillock of mis-shapen stones Is not a Ruin spared or made by time, Nor, as perchance thou rashly deem'st, the Cairn Of some old British Chief: 'tis nothing more Than the rude embryo of a little Dome Or Pleasure-house, once destined to be built Among the birch-trees of this rocky isle. |
 | | But, as it chanced, Sir William having learned That from the shore a full-grown man might wade, And make himself a freeman of this spot 10 At any hour he chose, the prudent Knight Desisted, and the quarry and the mound Are monuments of his unfinished task. |
 | | The block on which these lines are traced, perhaps, Was once selected as the corner-stone Of that intended Pile, which would have been Some quaint odd plaything of elaborate skill, So that, I guess, the linnet and the thrush, And other little builders who dwell here, Had wondered at the work. |
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