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    in these deep solitudes and awful cells,
    where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
    and ever-musing melancholy reigns;
    what means this tumult in a vestal's veins?
    why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
    why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
    yet, yet i love! — from abelard it came,
    and eloisa yet must kiss the name.
    ···
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