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IN PERU.

He wandered over wastes of stones

Heaped into wild fantastic forms,

The vanquished mountains' splintered bones

In wrestling with an enemy

Mightier than the fiend of storms;

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And as he scanned them one by one,

Piled high upon the mountain-side,

One like a golden mirror shone,

With blazes of the noonday sun;

And far above it seemed to lie

A figure carved in porphyry.

Unto his eager fancy rushed

The wonders of Peruvian art

That Time has almost changed to myths;

Rich goods, and sculptured monoliths

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