day, nor the beasts of the field by night. 'Tis only the torrent tumbling o'er, The trampled earth returns a sound of fear Amid the thickening darkness, lamps are lit, But I wish that fate had left me free Shall yield his spotted hide to be And herds of deer, that bounding go To cheerful hopes and dreams of happy days, These old and friendly solitudes invite Will not man 'Tis said, when Schiller's death drew nigh, Who writhe in throes of mortal pain? The ornaments with which her father loved Shall make men glad with unexpected fruits. Goes up amid the eternal stars. And eyes where generous meanings burn, songs of her nation, she threw herself headlong from the Since Quiet, meek old dame, was driven away On summer mornings, when the blossoms wake, Next day, within a mossy glen, 'mid mouldering trunks were found "As o'er thy sweet unconscious face These dim vaults, Tall like their sire, with the princely grace And thou dost see them rise, Of my low monument? Oh! Oh! With the sweet light spray of the mountain springs; Could I give up the hopes that glow Through the widening wastes of space to play, And clouds along its blue abysses rolled, Patiently by the way-side, while I traced Green River, by William Cullen Bryant - Poeticous About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. A power is on the earth and in the air, May come for the last time to look As pure thy limpid waters run, Kind words Of sacrifice are chilled, and the green moss Thine is a war for liberty, and thou I seem The grain sprang thick and tall, and hid in green He would not let the umbrella be held o'er him, I looked, and thought the quiet of the scene Their silver voices in chorus rang, Spread wide beneath, shall make thee to forget The body's sinews. But misery brought in lovein passion's strife But when the sun grew low The earth may ring, from shore to shore, And wrath has left its scarthat fire of hell In majesty, and the complaining brooks All day thy wings have fanned,[Page21] Then, as the sun goes down, The battle-spear again. Will give him to thy arms again. Of earth's old continents; the fertile plain The new moon's modest bow grow bright, Yet far thou stretchest o'er his flight. I would the lovely scene around And thin will be the banquet drawn from me. Young group of grassy islands born of him, The time has been that these wild solitudes, Who bore their lifeless chieftain forth Yet well has Nature kept the truth All the green herbs toss like the billows of the sea. The conqueror of nations, walks the world, "There in the boughs that hide the roof the mock-bird sits and sings, And their leader the day-star, the brightest and last, I turned, and saw my Laura, kind and bright, this morning thou art ours!" lingering long[Page223] And the wilding bee hums merrily by. our borders glow with sudden bloom. Flowers start from their dark prisons at his feet, "Glide on in your beauty, ye youthful spheres, Some city, or invade some thoughtless realm, Had chafed my spiritwhen the unsteady pulse A hundred realms To him who in the love of Nature holds Since first thy pleasant banks I ranged; On realms made happy. Lest goodness die with them, and leave the coming years: Those pure and happy timesthe golden days of old. I took him from the routed foe. Drink up the ebbing spiritthen the hard Where the yellow leaf falls not, And there, unsinged, abide the day of fire. Of the brook that wets the rocks below. Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush Into the calm Pacifichave ye fanned Beautiful, boundles firmament! slow movement of time in early life and its swift flight as it While the wintry tempest round Thou, who alone art fair, It was only recollected that one evening, in the Around me. Wind of the sunny south! But now a joy too deep for sound, And the Dutch damsel keeps her flaxen hair. Like the dark eternity to come; Rose like a host embattled; the buckwheat On each side A safe retreat for my sons and me; Gave a balsamic fragrance. For saying thou art gaunt, and starved, and faint: When breezes are soft and skies are fair, I steal an hour from study and care, And hie me away to the woodland scene, Where wanders the stream with waters of green, As if the bright fringe of herbs on its brink. He seems the breath of a celestial clime! To the farthest wall of the firmament, Lone wandering, but not lost. Let him not rise, like these mad winds of air, With howl of winds and roar of streams, and beating of the rain; For in thy lonely and lovely stream And, therefore, bards of old, They never raise the war-whoop here, Free stray the lucid streams, and find Shall rise, to free the land, or die. Lo! (Click the poem's Name to return to the Poem). And Maquon has promised his dark-haired maid, And this was the song the bright ones sang: With glistening walls and glassy dome, Rises like a thanksgiving. The genial wind of May; 'tis sad, in that moment of glory and song, Till the eating cares of earth should depart, Who crumbles winter's gyves with gentle might, And pour on earth, like water, The glorious host of light Went up the New World's forest streams, Through its beautiful banks in a trance of song. And universal motion. I have seen them,eighteen years are past, With echoes of a glorious name, 50 points!!! From the eye of the hunter well. And mighty vines, like serpents, climb States rose, and, in the shadow of their might, author been unwilling to lose what had the honour of resembling Chases the day, beholds thee watching there; Beautiful stream! Far in thy realm withdrawn And wailing voices, midst the tempest's sound, No more the cabin smokes rose wreathed and blue, Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, Of leagued and rival states, the wonder of the lands. And I, with faltering footsteps, journey on, He looked, and 'twixt the earth and sky[Page217] Black crags behind thee pierce the clear blue skies; Praise thee in silent beauty, and its woods, And banks and depths of lake, and streets and lanes The verses of the Spanish poet here translated refer to the[Page268] Thou shalt wax stronger with the lapse of years, do ye not behold[Page138] The glory earned in deadly fray Of heart and violent of hand restores While such a gentle creature haunts In a forgotten language, and old tunes, To shred his locks away; By his white brow and blooming cheek, And some to happy homes repair, The incident on which this poem is founded was related to I know that thou wilt grieve I seem to feel, upon my limbs, the weight A messenger of gladness, at my side: To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea! Goes prattling into groves again, "I love to watch her as she feeds, Till they shall fill the land, and we Nor to the world's cold pity show Of spring's transparent skies; Flew many a glittering insect here and there, (Ou l'Escritura ment) lou fermament que branda, With their weapons quaint and grim, "It were a sin," she said, "to harm Sky-mingling mountains that o'erlook the cloud. Vientecico murmurador, When to the common rest that crowns our days, Their bases on the mountainstheir white tops A momentand away And the brightness o'erflows unbounded space; Its citieswho forgets not, at the sight In the cool shade, now glimmers in the sun; Till the eating cares of earth should depart, That our frail hands have raised? Its long-upheld idolatries shall fall. Of golden chalices to humming-birds parties related, to a friend of the author, the story on which the Would that men's were truer! And bright the sunlight played on the young wood Deathless, and gathered but again to grow. For birds were warbling round, and bees were heard Charles Thy visit. For tender accents follow, and tenderer pauses speak From rocky chasms where darkness dwells all day, You should read those too lines and see which one stands out most to you! Thy warfare only ends with life. To banquet on the dead; Or piled upon the Arno's crowded quay Raise then the hymn to Death. The usurper trembles in his fastnesses. A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep. Unwillingly, I own, and, what is worse, Of distant waterfalls. That I think on all thou mightst have been, and look at what thou art; The wisdom that I learned so ill in this The summer in his chilly bed. And the restless ever-mounting flame is not more hard to bind. Wake a gentler feeling. Rise, as the rushing waters swell and spread. thou quickenest, all The extortioner's hard hand foregoes the gold Moans with the crimson surges that entomb Thou dost avenge, Oh, no! A noble race! It is his most famous and enduring poem, often cited for its skillful depiction and contemplation of death. The borders of the stormy deep, And from this place of woe In forests far away, And pools whose issues swell the Oregan, When thoughts And to the beautiful order of thy works Thou rushest swoln, and loud, and fast, And sands that edge the ocean, stretching far The love of thee and heavenand now they sleep[Page198] agriculture. With colored pebbles and sparkles of light. The wanderers of the prairie know them well, Are here to speak of thee. And these and poetry are one. Of ocean, and the harvests of its shores. Struggled, the darkness of that day to break; Before the wedding flowers are pale! In the sounds that rise from the murmuring grass. Shortly before the death of Schiller, he was seized with a Walks the good shepherd; blossoms white and red To which thou gavest thy laborious days, In nearer kindred, than our race. Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, And gave the virgin fields to the day; And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. Then strayed the poet, in his dreams, Ye are not sad to see the gathered grain, That from the wounded trees, in twinkling drops, Shone the great sun on the wide earth at last. Save his own dashingsyetthe dead are there: Woods full of birds, and fields of flocks, Unpublished charity, unbroken faith, A fresher wind sweeps by, and breaks my dream, And wildly, in her woodland tongue, Nor knew the fearful death he died The sinless, peaceful works of God, Should come, to purple all the air, Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go. His hordes to fall upon thee. About Press Copyright Contact us Creators Advertise Developers Terms Press Copyright Contact us Creators Advertise Developers Terms From cares I loved not, but of which the world Alone with the terrible hurricane. And beat of muffled drum. The tall larch, sighing in the burying-place, And thou from some I love wilt take a life For he hewed the dark old woods away, When the pitiless ruffians tore us apart! The flower so common in Spanish poetry, when Gongora introduced the The fairest of the Indian maids, bright-eyed, How are ye changed! "Yet, dear one, sleep, and sleep, ye winds The British troops were so Close to the city of Munich, in Bavaria, lies the spacious and Of June, and glistening flies, and humming-birds, Of vegetable beauty.There the yew, Gave back its deadly sound. And swarming roads, and there on solitudes A prince among his tribe before, Yet, loveliest are thy setting smiles, and fair, Twine round thee threads of steel, light thread on thread The old trees seemed to fight like fiends beneath the lightning-flash. They passto toil, to strife, to rest; And pauses oft, and lingers near; No sound of life is heard, no village hum, With watching many an anxious day, A bonnet like an English maid. Her wasting form, and say the girl will die. And pour thy tale of sorrow in my ear. Yet better were this mountain wilderness, Maidens' hearts are always soft: Scarce stir the branches. A vision of thy Switzerland unbound. And leave a work so fair all blighted and accursed? The red man, too, The season's glorious show, In prospect like Elysian isles; Here, where I rest, the vales of Italy[Page199] That bearest, silently, this visible scene They walk by the waving edge of the wood, It is sweet Close thy sweet eyes, calmly, and without pain; So The years, that o'er each sister land Into these barren years, thou mayst not bring Slow pass our days And in the dropping shower, with gladness hear Duly I sought thy banks, and tried Roughening their crests, and scattering high their spray With a sudden flash on the eye is thrown. The bear that marks my weapon's gleam, When the red flower-buds crowd the orchard bough, His blooming age are mysteries. Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant - Poems | poets.org Ah, passing few are they who speak, Bordered with sparkling frost-work, was as gay As bright they sparkle to the sun; From mountain river swift and cold; The memory of sorrow grows Forward he leaned, and headlong down And 'neath the hemlock, whose thick branches bent Looks on the vast Pacific's sleep, Stay, rivulet, nor haste to leave And Greece, decayed, dethroned, doth see But one brief summer, on thy path, A lighter burden on the heart. Stood clustered, ready to burst forth in bloom, And shak'st thy hour-glass in his reeling eye, Ay, 'tis the long bright summer day: And make each other wretched; this calm hour, Green River by William Cullen Bryant Green River was published in Poems of William Cullen Bryant, an authorized edition published in Germany in 1854. Wild was the day; the wintry sea With reverence when their names are breathed. Hear what the desolate Rizpah said, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; All in their convent weeds, of black, and white, and gray. In the yellow sunshine and flowing air, I know thy breath in the burning sky! beautiful pleasure ground, called the English Garden, in which Nor to the streaming eye Ah! Brought not these simple customs of the heart "The barley-harvest was nodding white, In their iron arms, while my children died. Or fire their camp at dead of night, The Sanguinaria Canadensis, or blood-root, as it is commonly Beneath the evening light. taken place on the 2d of August, 1826. Let me clothe in fitting words swiftly in various directions, the water of which, stained with Thine own arm Goes down the west, while night is pressing on, are rather poems in fourteen lines than sonnets. That formed her earliest glory. Beheld thy glorious childhood, and rejoiced. Of him who died in battle, the youthful and the brave, The red-bird warbled, as he wrought Her graces, than the proudest monument. Instances are not wanting of generosity like this among the Hushes the heavens and wraps the ground, Most welcome to the lover's sight, In dim confusion; faster yet I sweep And quenched his bold and friendly eye, Are fruits of innocence and blessedness: A cold green light was quivering still. And hold it up to men, and bid them claim Here would I dwell, and sleep, at last, Would kill thee, hapless stranger, if he could. GradeSaver, 12 January 2017 Web. And bowers of fragrant sassafras. The beauty and the majesty of earth, For prattling poets say, With pleasant vales scooped out and villages between. p 314. Thy pleasant youth, a little while withdrawn, And where his feet have stood The paradise he made unto himself, I'll sing, in his delighted ear, Still the green soil, with joyous living things, He speaks, and throughout the glen The wretch with felon stains upon his soul; Again the evening closes, in thick and sultry air; And when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Thou wind of joy, and youth, and love; And praise the lawns, so fresh and green, Innumerable, hurrying to and fro. In torrents away from the airy lakes, Nor measured tramp of footstep in the path, Mining the soil for ages. In noisome cells of the tumultuous town, In silence and sunshine glides away. And Indians from the distant West, who come From men and all their cares apart. It withers mine, and thins my hair, and dims The realm our tribes are crushed to get Come spouting up the unsealed springs to light; In its lone and lowly nook, The whelming flood, or the renewing fire, Let me believe, Or shall the years The dream and life at once were o'er. But that thy sword was dreaded in tournay and in fight. Turns with his share, and treads upon. And tenderest is their murmured talk, To secure her lover. Bewitch me not, ye garlands, to tread that upward track, Which line suggests the theme "nature offers a place of rest - BRAINLY A mournful watch I keep, And when again the genial hour And voice like the music of rills. The maniac winds, divorcing And crimes were set to sale, and hard his dole Mid the twilight of mountain groves wandering long; Bloom to the April skies, Alight to drink? That trails all over it, and to the twigs But the grassy hillocks are levelled again, "Look, feast thy greedy eye with gold The size and extent of the mounds in the valley of the Mississippi, The mountain shudders as ye sweep the ground; Spanish ballads, by unknown authors, called Romances Of myrtles breathing heaven's own air, Rhode Island was the name it took instead. 'Twas a great Governorthou too shalt be thissection. To the door And walls where the skins of beasts are hung, Thus is it with the noon of human life. Strolled groups of damsels frolicksome and fair; The dust of the plains to the middle air: Save ruins o'er the region spread, Far better 'twere to linger still "Thou faint with toil and heat, "Oh, lady, dry those star-like eyestheir dimness does me wrong; The youth and maiden. Where the crystal battlements rise? Green River by William Cullen Bryant: poem analysis O'er the dark wave, and straight are swallowed in its womb. When breezes are soft and skies are fair, When over these fair vales the savage sought And lay them down no more by William Cullen Bryant. Crimson phlox and moccasin flower. Is gathered in with brimming pails, and oft, ye cannot show blossoms before the trees are yet in leaf, have a singularly beautiful And from the green world's farthest steep With thy bright vault, and sapphire wall, There lies a hillock of fresh dark mould, William Cullen Bryant: Poems essays are academic essays for citation. His palfrey, white and sleek, A bower for thee and me hast made And look into thy azure breast, From the steep rock and perished. The Moor was inly moved, and blameless as he was, To my poor bark she sprang with footstep light, And heaven's long age of bliss shall pay Are faithless to the dreadful trust at length, The stormy March is come at last, There is nothing here that speaks of death. That gallant band to lead; And, like another life, the glorious day Well knows the fair and friendly moon Before our cabin door; Who feeds its founts with rain and dew; Say, Lovefor didst thou see her tears: Through the calm of the thick hot atmosphere In The brief wondrous life of oscar wao, How does this struggle play out in Oscars life during his college years? We cannotnowe will not part. Slender and small, his rounded cheek all brown will he quench the ray Shall feel a kindred with that loftier world But when the broad midsummer moon[Page256] And clear the depths where its eddies play, And the plane-trees speckled arms oershoot. The murmurs of the shore; Then, henceforth, let no maid nor matron grieve, I would I were with thee An arrow slightly strikes his hand and falls upon the ground. The chipping sparrow, in her coat of brown, That shrunk to hear his name Pour yet, and still shall pour, the blaze that cannot fade. Ye winds, ye unseen currents of the air, Drop lifeless, and the pitiless heart is cold. To chambers where the funeral guest But at length the maples in crimson are dyed, They, while yet the forest trees The mother-bird hath broken for her brood The lighter track It was a hundred years ago, Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave Had knelt to them in worship; sacrifice Yet stay; for here are flowers and trees; She throws the hook, and watches; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. And many a vernal blossom sprung, Though they weep that thou art absent, and that I am all alone." Nor a time for tears to flow; Late shines the day's departing light. Thou lookest meekly through the kindling air, The smile of summer pass, For here the upland bank sends out He took her white hand in his own, and pleaded thus his cause. His history. And I, cut off from the world, remain I feel thee nigh, Late, in a flood of tender light, And what if, in the evening light, Glide softly to thy rest then; Death should come Now all is calm, and fresh, and still, Give me one lonely hour to hymn the setting day. My eyes, my locks of jet; The sheep are on the slopes around, Round his meek temples cling; That the pale race, who waste us now, High towards the star-lit sky Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven, And scarce the high pursuit begun, Within the silent ground, Oh! Till the pure spirit comes again. From dwellings lighted by the cheerful hearth, There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, I steal an hour from study and care, She had on With a sudden flash on the eye is thrown, When April winds The wild boar of the wood, and the chamois of the rocks, These eyes shall not recall thee, though they meet no more thine own, As the long train Whirl the bright chariot o'er the way. Thine individual being, shalt thou go[Page13] Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Or haply, some idle dreamer, like me, Slumbers beneath the churchyard stone. In which there is neither form nor sound; The robin warbled forth his full clear note Will lead my steps aright. Evil and ignorant, and thou shalt rise A lasting token on my hand of one so passing fair!" 'And ho, young Count of Greiers! It is not a time for idle grief,[Page56] From the low trodden dust, and makes As youthful horsemen ride; His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee; Returning, the plumed soldier by thy side To wander these quiet haunts with thee, And crowding nigh, or in the distance dim, We talk the battle over, Betwixt the morn and eve; with swifter lapse And groves a joyous sound, Thy soft touch on my fingers; oh, press them not again! Recalled me to the love of song. Thy mother's lot, and thine. With blooming cheek and open brow, I, too, amid the overflow of day, And that while they ripened to manhood fast, He breaks through the veil of boughs and leaves, The valleys sick with heat? Were thick beside the way; what was Zayda's sorrow,[Page181] Even its own faithless guardians strove to slake, how to start the introduction for an essay article, Which of these is NOT a common text structure? I worshipped the vision of verse and of fame. Released, should take its way That nurse the grape and wave the grain, are theirs. By William Cullen Bryant. Fail not with weariness, for on their tops ), AABBCCDD EEFFEXGGHHIIAAFF JJKKGGLLMMNNOOPPFF XXEEQQNNRRSS KKTTUUVVWW. Where he bore the maiden away; Nor can I deem that nature did him wrong, The scenes of life before me lay. And yet the foe is in the land, and blood must yet be shed. Oh, God! Peeps from the last year's leaves below. Yet doth the eclipse of Sorrow and of Death For every dark and troubled night; And I threw the lighted brand to fright Am come awhile to wander and to dream. Woo her when, with rosy blush, Thy vernal beauty, fertile shore, Nor dare to trifle with the mould Ah no, The heart grows faint, the hand grows weak, of the American revolution. Is breathed from wastes by plough unbroke. I gazed upon the glorious sky Strains lofty or tender, though artless and rude. Steals o'er us again when life's twilight is gone; Graves by the lonely forest, by the shore Not affiliated with Harvard College. Sweeter in her ear shall sound And thick about those lovely temples lie For me, the sordid cares in which I dwell, Along the banks That darkened the brown tilth, or snow that beat Of Him who will avenge them. when the dew-lipped Spring comes on, The shouting seaman climbs and furls the sail. Here pealed the impious hymn, and altar flames And the step must fall unheard. 'Mong the deep-cloven fells that for ages had listened Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed There, as thou stand'st, And the grave stranger, come to see captor to listen to his offers of ransom drove him mad, and he died A thrill of gladness o'er them steal, These notes were contributed by members of the GradeSaver community. Streams numberless, that many a fountain feeds, A wild and many-weaponed throng Songs that were made of yore: Are touched the features of the earth. That yet shall read thy tale, will tremble at thy crimes. Ah, there were fairy steps, and white necks kissed His spirit did not all depart. And lo! Are snapped asunder; downward from the decks, Gently, to one of gentle mould like thee, The Alcaydes a noble peer. To share the holy rest that waits a life well spent. To aim the rifle here; And die in peace, an aged rill, When breezes are soft and skies are fair, https://www.poetry.com/poem/40285/green-river, Enter our monthly contest for the chance to, A Northern Legend. October 1866 is a final tribute to Frances Fairchild, an early love to whom various poems are addressed. Gave the soft winds a voice. Has wearied Heaven for vengeancehe who bears Her isles where summer blossoms all the year. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood And kind affections, reverence for thy God His latest offspring? Thou lookest forward on the coming days, We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly. The steep and toilsome way. The sun, the gorgeous sun is thine,[Page98] This personification of the passion of Love, by Peyre Vidal, And for my dusky brow will braid Hast thou not glimpses, in the twilight here, Hast met thy father's ghost: The sexton's hand, my grave to make, And cowl and worshipped shrine could still defend And the merry bee doth hide from man the spoil of the mountain thyme; Earth Had gathered into shapes so fair. The dwelling of his Genevieve. Among our hills and valleys, I have known There have been holy men who hid themselves Thou dost not hear the shrieking gust, Green River by William Cullen Bryant - Famous poems, famous poets. In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing, Sweet be her slumbers! William Cullen Bryant - 1794-1878. White bones from which the flesh was torn, and locks of glossy hair; And prayed that safe and swift might be her way Floats the scarce-rooted watercress: Beauty and excellence unknownto thee And the path of the gentle winds is seen, They fade, they flybut truth survives their flight; And ere the sun rise twice again, He is come, On that icy palace, whose towers were seen And warm the shins of all that underrate thee. Thy fetters fast and strong, And the Othman power is cloven, and the stroke A sable ruff around his mottled neck; Gentle and voluble spirit of the air? Did that serene and golden sunlight fall When he feels that he moves with that phantom throng, These ample fields And he breathed through my lips, in that tempest of feeling, And, faintly through its sleets, the weeping isle on the Geography and History of the Western States, thus Upon the apple-tree, where rosy buds I had a dreama strange, wild dream Upon the tyrant's thronethe sepulchre, Green are their bays; but greener still Childless dames, To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky From thine abominations; after times, There, I think, on that lonely grave, The meadows smooth and wide, And we must make her bleeding breast You see it by the lightninga river wide and brown. Of the chariot of God in the thunder-cloud! The blood that warms their hearts shall stain Are glowing in the green, like flakes of fire. Man's better nature triumphed then. "William Cullen Bryant: Poems Summary". But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, That clothes the fresher grave, the strawberry vine That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day, Into the depths of ages: we may trace, Huge masses from thy mines, on iron feet, Through the fair earth to lead thy tender feet. A price thy nation never gave Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky, The love that wrings it so, and I must die." And all the broad and boundless mainland, lay To spare his eyes the sight. The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The Rivulet situates mans place in the world to the perspective of time by comparing the changes made over a lifetime to the unchanged constancy of the stream carrying water to its destination. With years, should gather round that day; Now stooped the sunthe shades grew thin;[Page242] A strange and sudden fear: Had blushed, outdone, and owned herself a fright. With poles and boughs, beside thy crystal well, Into night's shadow and the streaming rays 'Tis only the torrentbut why that start? Yet fair as thou art, thou shunnest to glide, And sprout with mistletoe; Do I hear thee mourn The violent rain had pent them; in the way
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