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As the fierce South, or Boreas in the shade of sylvan upland where the tree-boles cluster, the branches shatt’ering crash through glooming glade with horrid hurry and infuriate fluster:
Roars all the mountain, Echo moans in dread; torn is the leaf’ery, hill-heads boil and bluster:
Such gusty tumults rise amid the Gods within Olympus’ consecrate abodes.