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From the wild covert where he lay,

And grasps his comrade's arm, now grown
Long battles with the o'erwhelming tide, E'en feebler, heavier than his own,
So fought he back with fierce delay,

And faintly up the pathway leads,
And kept both foes and fate at bay.

Death gaining on each step he treads.

Speed them, thou God, who heard'st their vow But whither now? their track is lost,

They mount—they bleed-oh save them nowTheir prey escap'd-guide, torches gone

The crags are red they've clamber'd o'er, By torrent-beds and labyrinths crost,

The rock-weeds dripping with their goreThe scatter'd crowd rush blindly on

Thy blade too, Haren, false at length, “Curse on those tardy lights that wind,"

Now breaks beneath thy tottering strength-
They panting cry, “so far behind-
Oh for a bloodhound's precious scent,

Haste, haste—the voices of the foe

Come near and nearer from belowTo track the way the Gheber went !"

One effort more-thank Heav'n! 'tis past, Vain wish-confusedly along

They've gain'd the topmost steep at last. They rush, more desperate as more wrong:

And now they touch the temple's walls, Till, wilder'd by the far-off lights,

Now HAFED sees the Fire divineYet glittering up those gloomy heights,

When, lo !-his weak, worn comrade falls Their footing, maz’d and lost, they miss,

Dead on the threshold of the Shrine. And down the darkling precipice

“Alas, brave soul, too quickly fled ! Are dash'd into the deep abyss :

And must I leave thee withering here, Or midway hang, impal'd on rocks,

The sport of every ruffian's tread, A banquet, yet alive, for flocks

The mark for every coward's spear? Of ravening vultures—while the dell

No, by yon altar's sacred beams !" Re-echoes with each horrid yell.

He cries, and with a strength that seems Those sounds—the last, to vengeance dear, Not of this world, uplifts the frame That e'er shall ring in Hafed's ear,

Of the fall'n Chief, and tow'rds the flame Now reach him, as aloft, alone,

Bears him along ;-with death-damp hand Upon the steep way breathless thrown,

The corpse upon the pyre he lays, He lay beside his reeking blade,

Then lights the consecrated brand, Resign'd, as if life's task were o'er,

And fires the pile, whose sudden blaze, Ils last blood-offering amply paid,

Like lightning bursts o'er Oman's Sea.And Iran's self could claim no more.

“Now, Freedom's God! I come to Thee," One only thought, one lingering beam

The youth exclaims, and with a smile Now broke across his dizzy dream

Of triumph vaulting on the pile, Of pain and weariness—'twas she

In that last effort, ere the fires
His heart's pure planet, shining yet

Have harm’d one glorious limb, expires !
Above the waste of memory,
When all life's other lights were set.

What shriek was that on Oman's tide ?
And never to his mind before

It came from yonder drifting bark, Her image such enchantment wore.

That just has caught upon her side It seem'd as if each thought that stain'd,

The death-light-and again is dark. Each fear that chill'd their loves was past, It is the boat-ah, why delay'd ?And not one cloud of earth remain'd

That bears the wretched Moslem maid Between him and her glory cast ;

Confided to the watchful care As if to charms, before so bright,

Of a small veteran band, with whom New grace from other worlds was given, Their generous Chieftain would not share And his soul saw her by the light

The secret of his final doom ; Now breaking o'er itself from heaven!

But hop'd when IIInda, safe and free,

Was render'd to her father's eyes, A voice spoke near him—'twas the tone

Their pardon, full and prompt, would be Of a lov'd friend, the only one

The ransomn of so dear a prize. Of all his warriors left with life

Unconscious, thus, of Hafed's fate, From that short night's tremendous strife.

And proud to guard their beauteous freight, “And must we then, my Chief, die here?

Scarce had they clear'd the surfy waves Foes round us, and the Shrine so near ?"

That foam around those frightful caves, These words have rous'd the last remains

When the curst war-whoops, known so well, Of life within him—"what! not yet

Come echoing from the distant dellBeyond the reach of Moslem chains ?"

Sudden each oar, upheld and still, The thought could make e'en Death forget

Hung dripping o'er the vessel's side His icy bondage-with a bound

And, driving at the current's will, He springs, all bleeding, from the ground,

They rock'd along the whispering tide, sorts of wild beasts are wont to harbour theruselves, whose While every eye, in mute dismay, being washed out of the covert by the overflowings of the Was tow'rd that fatal mountain turn'd, river, gave occasion to that allusion of Jeremiah, he shall Where the dim altar's quivering ray come up like a lion from the stoelling of Jordan.”—Maundrell's Aleppo.

As yet all lone and tranquil burn'd

Tall, shadowy, like a Spirit of Fire

Shrin'd in its own grand element ! “ 'Tis he!"—the shuddering maid exclaims,

But, while she speaks, he's seen no more ; High burst in air the funeral flames,

And Iran's hopes and hers are o'er ! One wild, heart-broken shriek she gave

Then sprung, as if to reach the blaze,

Where still she fix'd her dying gaze, And, gazing, sunk into the wave,Deep, deep,—where never care or pain Shall reach her innocent heart again!

Oh! 'tis not, Hinda, in the power

Of Fancy's most terrific touch,
To paint thy pangs in that dread hour-

Thy silent agony—'twas such
As those who feel could paint too well,
But none e'er felt and liv'd to tell !
"Twas not alone the dreary state
Of a lorn spirit, crush'd by fate,
When, though no more remains to dread,

The panic chill will not depart;-
When, though the inmate Hope be dead,

Her ghost still haunts the mouldering heart, No-pleasures, hopes, affections gone, The wretch may bear, and yet live on, Like things within the cold rock found Alive, when all's congeal'd around. But there's a blank repose in this, A calm stagnation, that were bliss To the keen, burning, harrowing pain, Now felt through all thy breast and brainThat spasm of terror, mute, intense, That breathless, agoniz'd suspense, From whose hot throb, whose deadly aching The heart hath no relief but breaking ! Calm is the wave-heav'n's brilliant lights

Reflected dance beneath the prow;L'ime was when, on such lovely nights,

She who is there, so desolate now, Could sit all cheerful, though alone,

And ask no happier joy than seeing
That star-light o'er the waters thrown-
No joy but that to make her blest,

And the fresh, buoyant sense of Being
That bounds in youth's yet careless breast-
Itself a star, not borrowing light,
But in its own glad essence bright.
How different now !-but, hark, again
The yell of havoc rings—brave men!
In vain, with beating hearts, ye stand
On the bark's edge—in vain each hand
Half draws the falchion from its sheath;

All's o'er-in rust your blades may lie : He, at whose word they've scatter'd death,

E'en now, this night, himself must die! Well may ye look to yon dim tower,

And ask, and wondering guess what means The battle-cry at this dead hour

Ah! she could tell you-she, who leans
Unheeded there, pale, sunk, aghast,
With brow against the dew-cold mast-

Too well she knows-her more than life, Her soul's first idol and its last,

Lies bleeding in that murderous strise. But see-what moves upon the height ? Some signal !-'tis a torch's light.

What bodes its solitary glare ? in gasping silence tow'rd the shrine All eyes are turn'd-thine, HINDA, thine

Fix their last failing life-beam there. Twas but a moment-fierce and high The death-pile blaz'd into the sky, And far away o'er rock and flood

Its melancholy radiance sent; While Hafed, like a vision, stood Beveal'd before the burning pyre,

Farewell—farewell to thee, Araby's daughter!

(Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea :) No pearl ever lay, under Oman's green water,

More pure in its shell than thy spirit in thee. Oh! fair as the sea-flower close to thee growing,

How light was thy heart 'till Love's witchery came, Like the wind of the south'o'era summer lute blowing,

And hush'd all its music and wither'd its frame! But long, upon Araby's green sunny highlands,

Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom Of her, who lies sleeping among the Pearl Islands,

With nought but the sea-star? to light up her tomb. And still, when the merry date-season is burning,

And calls to the palm-groves the young and the old," The happiest there, from their pastime returning,

At sunset, will weep when thy story is told. The young village maid, when with flowers she

dresses Her dark flowing hair for some festival day, Will think of thy fate till, neglecting her tresses,

She mournfully turns from the mirror away. Nor shall Iran, belov'd of her Hero ! forget thee,

Though tyrants watch over her tears as they start, Close, close by the side of that Hero she'll set thee,

Embalm'd in the innermost shrine of her heart. Farewell—be it ours to embellish thy pillow

With every thing beauteous that grows in the deep; Each flower of the rock and each gem of the billow

Shall sweeten thy bed and illumine thy sleep. Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber

That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept ;* With manya shell, in whose hollow-wreath'd chamber

We, Peris of Ocean, by moonlight have slept. We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling,

And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head;

1 " This wind (the Samoor) so softens the strings of lutes, that they can never be tuned wbila it lasts.”— Stephen's Persia.

2 " One of the greatest curiosities found in the Persian Gulf is a fish which the English call Star-fish. It is circular, and at night very luminous, resembling the full moon surrounded by rays."- Mirza Abu Taleb.

3 For a description of the mertiment of the date-time, of their work, their dances, and their return home from the palm-groves at the end of autumn with the fruits, see Kempfer, Amanitat, Erot.

4 Some naturalists have imagined that amber is a concrelion of tho tears of birds.-Soe Tredoux, Chambers

We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian' are ver,' beyond which no pure Hindoo can pass; and sparkling,

were reposing for a time in the rich valley of Hussun And gather their gold to strew over thy bed. Abdaul, which had always been a favourite resting

place of the emperors in their annual migrations to Farewell-farewell—until Pity's sweet fountain Is lost in the hearts of the fair and the brave,

Cashmere. Here often had the Light of the Faith, They'll weep for the Chieftain who died on that Jehanguire, wandered with his beloved and beautiful

Nourmahal, and here would LALLA Rooki have mountain,

been happy to remain for ever, giving up the throne They'll weep for the Maiden who sleeps in this wave.

of Bucharia and the world, for FERAMORZ and love in this sweet lonely valley. The time was now fast

approaching when she must see him no longer-or The singular placidity with which FADLADEEN see him with eyes whose every look belonged to had listened, during the latter part of this obnoxious another; and there was a melancholy preciousness in story, surprised the Princess and FERAMORZ exceed- these last moments, which made her heart cling to ingly; and even inclined towards him the hearts of them as it would to life. During the latter part of these unsuspicious young persons, who little knew the journey, indeed, she had sunk into a deep sadness, the source of a complacency so marvellous. The from which nothing but the presence of the young truth was, he had been organizing, for the last few minstrel could awake her. Like those lamps in days, a most notable plan of persecution against the tombs, which only light up when the air is admitted, poet, in consequence of some passages that had fal- it was only at his approach that her eyes became len from him on the second evening of recital, which smiling and animated. But here, in this dear valley, appeared to this worthy Chamberlain to contain lan- every moment was an age of pleasure ; she saw him guage and principles, for which nothing short of the all day, and was, therefore, all day happy-resemsummary criticism of the Chabuk2 would be advisa- bling, she often thought, that people of Zinge, who ble. It was his intention, therefore, immediately on attribute the unfading cheerfulness they enjoy to one their arrival at Cashmere, to give information to the genial star that rises nightly over their heads." king of Bucharia of the very dangerous sentiments The whole party, indeed, seemed in their liveliest of his minstrel; and if, unfortunately, that monarch mood during the few days they passed in this delightdid not act with suitable vigour on the occasion, (that ful solitude. The young attendants of the Princess, is, if he did not give the Chabuk to Feramorz, and who were here allowed a freer range than they could A place to FADLADEEN,) there would be an end, he safely be indulged with in a less sequestered place, feared, of all legitimate government in Bucharia. He ran wild among the gardens, and bounded through could not help, however, auguring beiter both for the meadows, lightly as young roes over the aromatic himself and the cause of potentates in general; and plains of Tibet. While FADLADEEN, beside the spiit was the pleasure arising from these mingled antici. ritual comfort he derived from a pilgrimage to the pations that diffused such unusual satisfaction through tomb of the Saint from whom the valley is named, his features, and made his eyes shine out, like poppies had opportunities of gratifying, in a small way, his of the desert, over the wide and lifeless wilderness taste for victims, by putting to death some hundreds of that countenance.

of those unfortunate little lizards, which all pious Having decided upon the Poet's chastisement in Mussulmans make it a point to kill ;-taking for this manner, he thought it but humanity to spare him granted, that the manner in which the creature hangs the minor tortures of criticism. Accordingly, when its head is meant as a mimicry of the attitude in they assembled next evening in the pavilion, and which the Faithful say their prayers ! LALLA Rookh expected to see all the beauties of her About two miles from Hussun Abdaul were those bard melt away, one by one, in the acidity of criti- Royal Gardens, which had grown beautiful under the cism, like pearls in the cup of the Egyptian Queen- care of so many lovely eyes, and were beautiful still, he agreeably disappointed her by merely saying, with though those eyes could see them no longer. This an ironical smile, that the merits of such a poem de- place, with its flowers and its holy silence, interrupted served to be tried at a much higher tribunal; and then only by the dipping of the wings of birds in its marsuddenly passing off into a panegyric upon all Mus- ble basins filled with the pure water of those hills, sulman sovereigns, more particularly his august and was to Lalla Rookh all that her heart could fancy imperial master, Aurungzebe—the wisest and best of of fragrance, coolness, and almost heavenly tran- • the descendants of Timur-who, among other great quillity. As the Prophet said of Damascus, “ it was things he had done for mankind, had given to him, too delicious ;"'-—and here, in listening to the sweet FADLADEEN, the very profitable posts of Betel-car- voice of FERAMORZ, or reading in his eyes what yet rier and Taster of Sherbets to the Emperor, Chief he never dared to tell her, the most exquisite moments Holder of the Girdle of Beautiful Forms," and Grand of her whole life were passed. One evening, when Nazir, or Chamberlain of the Haram.

they had been talking of the Sultana Nourmahal They were now not far from that forbidden ri- the Light of the Haramn,' who had so often wandered

1 "The bay of Kieselarke, which is otherwise called the limits it was not thought graceful to exceed. If any of Goldeo Bay, the sand whereof shines as tire."-Struy. them outgrew this standard of shape, they were reduced by

2" The application of whips or rods."-Dubois. abstinence till they came within its bounds.

3 Kempfer mentions such an officer among the attendants 1 The Attock. of the King of Persia, and calls him, "formæ corporis esti- 2 The star Soheil, or Canopus. mator." His business was, at stated periods, to measure 3 Nourmahal signifies Light of the Haram. She was the ladies of the Haram by a sort of regulation girdle, whoselatterwards culled Nourjohan, or the Light of the }Vorld.

among these flowers, and fed with her own hands, in | But never yet, by night or day,
those marble basins, the small shining fishes ot' which In dew of spring or summer's ray,
she was so fond,'--the youth, in order to delay the Did the sweet Valley shine so gay
moment of separation, proposed to recite a short story, As now it shines-all love and light,
or rather rhapsody, of which this adored Sultana was Visions by day and feasts by night!
the heroine. It related, he said, to the reconcilemeut A happier smile illumes each brow,
of a sort of lovers' quarrel, which took place between With quicker spread each heart uncloses,
her and the Emperor during a Feast of Roses at Cash- And all is ecstasy,-for now
mere ; and would remind the Princess of that differ- The Valley holds ils Feast of Roses.'
ence between Ilaroun-al-Raschid and his fair mistress That joyous time, when pleasures pour
Marida, which was so happily made up by the soft Profusely round, and in their shower
strains of the musician, Moussali. As the story was Hearts open, like the Season's Rose -
chiefly to be told in song, and FERAMORZ had un- The flowret of a hundred leaves,?
luckily forgotten his own lute in the valley, he bor- Expanding while the dew-fall flows,
rowed the vina of LALLA Rooku's little Persian And every leaf its balm receives !
slave, and thus began :-

"Twas when the hour of evening came

Upon the Lake, serene and cool,
THE LIGHT OF THE HARAM. When Day had hid his sultry flame

Behind the palms of BARAMOULE."

When maids began to lift their heads,
Who has not heard of the Vale of CasimERE, Refresh'd, from their embroider'd beds,

With its roses, the brightest that earth ever gave, Where they had slept the sun away,
Its temples and grottos, and fountains as clear And wak'd to moonlight and to play.
As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave? All were abroad—the busiest hive

On Bela's* hills is less alive
Oh! to see it at sunset,—when warm o'er the Lake When saffron beds are full in flower,

Its splendour at parting a summer eve throws, Than look'd the Valley at that hour
Like a bride full of blushes, when lingering to take A thousand restless torches play'd

A last look of her mirror at night ere she goes ! - Through every grove and island shade ;
When the shrines through the foliage are gleaming A thousand sparkling lamps were set
half shown,

On every dome and minaret;
And each ballows the hour by some rites of its own. And fields and pathways, far and near,
Here the music of pray'r from a minaret swells, Were lighted by a blaze so clear,

Here the magian his urn full of perfume is swinging, That you could see, in wandering round,
And here, at the altar, a zone of sweet bells The smallest rose-leaf on the ground.
Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is Yet did the maids and matrons leave

Their veils at home, that brilliant eve;
Or to see it by moonlight,—when mellowly shines And there were glancing eyes about,
The light o'er its palaces, gardens and shrines; And cheeks, that would not dare shine out
When the waterfalls gleam like a quick fall of stars, In open day, but thought they might
And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of Chenars Look lovely then, because 'twas night!
Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet And all were free, and wandering,
From the cool, shining walks where the young peo- And all exclaim'd to all they met
ple meet :-

That never did the summer bring
Or at morn, when the magic of daylight awakes

So gay a Feast of Roses yet ;-
A new wonder each minute, as slowly it breaks, The moon had never shed a light
Hills, cupolas, fountains, callid forth every one So clear as that which bless'd them there;
Out of darkness, as they were just born of the Sun. The roses ne'er shone half so bright,
When the Spirit of Fragrance is up with the day, Nor they themselves look'd half so fair
From his Haram of night-flowers stealing away; And what a wilderness of flowers !
And the wind, full of wantonness, woos, like a lover, It seem'd as though from all the bowers
The young aspen-trees“ till they tremble all over. And fairest fields of all the year,
'When the East is as warm as the light of first hopes, The mingled spoil were scatter'd here.

And Day, with his banner of radiance unfurl'd, The Lake, too, like a garden breathes,
Shines in through the mountainous' portal that opes, With the rich buds that o'er it lie,
Sublime, from that valley of bliss to the world! As if a shower of fairy wreaths

Had fall'n upon it from the sky !

And then the sounds of joy-the beat
1 See note, p. 65.
2 " The rose of Kashmire, for its brilliancy and delicacy

Of tabors and of dancing feet ;-
of colour has long been proverbial in the East."- Forster.

3 “ Tied round her waist the zone of bells, that sounded 1 "The Feast of Roses continues the whole time of their with ravishing melody."---Song of Jayadeva.

remaining in bloom."-See Pietro de la Valle. 4 " The little isles in the Lake of Cachemire are set with 2 “Gui sad berk, the Rose of a hundred leaves. I believe arbourg and large-leaved aspen-trecs, slender and tall."'-a particular species."-Ouscley. Bernier.

3 Bernier. 5 "The Tuckt Suliman, the name bestowed by the Ma- 4 A place mentioned in the Toozek Jehangeery, or Me hometans on this hill, forms one side of a grand portal to moirs of Jehanguire, where there is an account of the beds tho Lake."- Forster.

l of saffron flowers about Cashmere

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of oars,

The minaret-cryer's chaunt of glee

Now here, and now there, giving warmth as it flies Sung from his lighted gallery,'

From the lips to the cheeks, from the cheek to the And answer'd by a ziraleet

eyes, From neighbouring llaram, wild and sweet;- Now melting in mist and now breaking in gleams, The merry laughter, echoing

Like the glimpses a saint hath of Heav'n in his dreams! From gardens, where the silken swing

When pensive it seem'd as if that very grace, Wafts some delighted girl above

That charm of all others, was born with her face; The top leaves of the orange grove;

And when angry,—for e'en in the tranquillest climes Or, from those infant groups at play

Light breezes will ruffle the blossoms sometimes Among the tents that line the way,

The short passing anger but seem'd to awaken Flinging, unaw'd by slave or mother,

New beauty, like flowers that are sweetest when Handfuls of roses at each other!


If tenderness touch'd her, the dark of her eye And the sounds from the Lake,--the low whisp'ring At once took a darker, a heavenlier dye, boats,

From the depth of whose shadow, like holy revealings As they shoot through the moonlight ;--the dipping From innermost shrines, came the light of her feelings.

Then her mirth-oh! 'twas sportive as ever took wing And the wild, airy warbling that every where floats, From the heart with a burst, like a wild-bird in Spring: Through the groves, round the islands, as if all the Mum'd by a wit that would fascinate sages, shores

Yet playful as Peris just loos'd from their cages.' Like those of Kathay utter'd music, and gave

While her laugh, full of life, without any controul An answer in song to the kiss of each wave !3

But the sweet one of gracefulness, rung from her soul; But the gentlest of all are those sounds, full of feeling, And where it most sparkled no glance could discover That soft from the lute of some lover are stealing, - In lip, cheek, or eyes, for she brighten'd all over,Some lover, who knows all the heart-touching power Like any fair lake that the breeze is upon, Of a lute and a sigh in this magical hour.

When it breaks into dimples and laughs in the sun. Oh! best of delights, as it every where is,

Such, such were the peerless enchantments that gave To be near the lov'd One,—what a rapture is his NourmahaL the proud Lord of the East, for her slave; Who in moonlight and music thus sweetly may glide And though bright was his Haram,-a living parterre O'er the Lake of Cashmere, with that One by his side! Of the flowers? of this planet--though treasures were If Woman can make the worst wilderness dear,

there, Think, think what a heav'n she must make of Cash- For which Soliman's self might have given all the MERE!

store So felt the magnificent Son of Acbar,“

That the navy from Opnir e'er wing’d to his shore, When from power and pomp and the trophies of war

Yet dim before her were the smiles of them all, He flew to that Valley, forgetting them all

And the Light of his Haram was young NOURMAHAL! With the Light of the Haram, his young NOURMAHAL.

But where is she now, this night of joy,
When free and uncrown'd as the Conqueror rov'd

When bliss is every heart's employ ?-
By the banks of that Lake, with his only belov'd, When all around her is so bright,
He saw, in the wreaths she would playfully snatch

So like the visions of a trance,
From the hedges, a glory his crown could not match,

That one might think, who came by chance And preferr'd in his heart the least ringlet that curl'd

Into the vale this happy night, Down her exquisite neck to the throne of the world!

He saw the City of Delight There's a beauty, for ever unchangingly bright,

In fairy-land, whose streets and towers Like the long, sunny lapse of a summer-day's light,

Are made of gems and light and flowers !

Where is the lov'd Sultana ? where,
Shining on, shining on, by no shadow made tender,
Till Love falls asleep in its sameness of splendour.

When mirth brings out the young and fair,
This was not the beauty-oh! nothing like this,

Does she, the fairest, hide her brow,
That to young NOURMAHAL gave such magic of bliss;

In melancholy stillness now?
But that loveliness, ever in motion, which plays Alas-how light a cause may move
Like the light upon Autumn's soft shadowy days,

Dissensions between hearts that love!

Hearts that the world in vain had tried; 1 “It is the custom among the women to employ the And sorrow but more closely tied ; Maazeen to chaunt from the gallery of the nearest minaret, That stood the storm, when waves were rough, which on that occasion is illuminated, and the women as

Yet in a sunny hour fall off, sembled at the house respond at intervals with a ziraleet or joyous chorus."-Russell.

Like ships that have gone down at sca, 2 " At the keeping of the Feast of Roses we bebeld an When heav'n was all tranquillity! infinite number of tents pitched, with such a crowd of men, women, boys and girls, with music, dances," etc. etc.Herbert.

1 "In the wars of the Dives with the Peris, whenever the 3 “An old commentator of the Chou-King says, the an- former took the latter prisoners, they shut them up in iron cients having remarked that a current of water made some cages, and hung them on the highesi trees. Here they were of the stones near its banks send forth a sound, they detached visited by their companions, who brought them the choicest some of them, and being charmed with the delightful sound odours."- Richardson. they emittou, constructed King or musical instruments of 2 In the Malay language the same word signifies women them." - Grosier.

and flowers. 4 Jehanguire was the son of the Great Acbar.

3 The capital of Shadukiam. See note, p. 54

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