Thus in the desert's dreary waste,
By magic power produced in haste,
As old romances say,
Castles and groves, and music sweet,
The senses of the traveler cheat,
And stop him in his way.
But while he gazes with surprise,
The charm dissolves, the vision dies;
'Twas but enchanted ground
Thus, if the Lord our spirit touch,
The world, which promised us so much,
A wilderness is found.
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