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Shelley’s Vision
by [?]

Wandering late by morning seas
When my heart with pain was low–
Hate the censor pelted me–
Deject I saw my shadow go.

In elf-caprice of bitter tone
I too would pelt the pelted one:
At my shadow I cast a stone.

When lo, upon that sun-lit ground
I saw the quivering phantom take
The likeness of St. Stephen crowned:
Then did self-reverence awake.