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THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES



St date St"



SOUTHERN BRANCH,

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA,

LIBRARY,

LOS ANUcLi-S. CAL!F.



EpUal eiittt0n

THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS

OF

WILLL\M WORDSWORTH

IN TEN VOLUMES
VOLUME IX



Aircy-Force Valley



THE COMPLETE POETICAL
WORKS OF

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH



IX

LAST POEMS




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■> ' J J J •> J J ^ ^ J

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BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

1919

50040



COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED



• •• •.,*.,•.•!



•••*••».•____






• *• m • •••••• ••••>* ••*•• •



5 ^r. a o
V.9

CONTENTS



"Not in the lucid intervals of life" . Page S

By the Side of Rydal Mere .... 5

"Soft as a cloud is yon blue ridge — the Mere" . 7

"The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned

hill" 9

The Labourer's Noon-Day Hymn . • . . 11
The Redbreast. (Suggested in a Westmoreland

Cottage.) 13

Lines suggested by a Portrait from the Pencil

of F. Stone 17

The Foregoing Subject resumed .... 23
To a Child. Written in her Album ... 25
Lines written in the Album of the Countess of

Lonsdale. November 5, 1834 . . . . 2C

To the Moon. (Composed by the Seaside, — on

the Coast of Cumberland.) .... 30

[ v]



CONTENTS

To THE Moon. (Rydal.) 33

Written after the Death of Charles Lamb . 36
Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James

Hogg 42

Upon seeing a Coloured Drawing of the Bird

of Paradise in an Album .... 48
"By A blest Husband GUIDED, Mary came" . . 51
Sonnets —

1. "Desponding Father! mark this altered

BOUGH " 53

2. Roman Antiquities discovered at Bishop-

stone, Herefordshire .... 54

3. St. Catherine of Ledbury . . . 55

4. "Why art thou silent! Is thy love a

plant" 56

5. "Four fiery steeds impatient of the

rein" 57

6. To 58

"' Wait, prithee, wait!' this answer les-

ItlA TIIHKW "

I vi 1



CONTENTS

7. "Said Secrecy TO Cowardice AND Fraud" 59

November 1836 60

"Six months to six years added he remained" . 61

MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY, 1837 . 62

To Henry Crabb Robinson .... 63

1. Musings near Aquapendente. April

1837 64

2. The Pine of Monte Mario at Rotie . 82

3. At Rome 84

4. At Rome — Regrets — In allusion to

Niebuhr and other modern Historians 86

5. Continued 87

6. Plea for the Historian .... 88

7. At Rome ....... 89

8. Near Rome, in sight of St. Peter's . 90

9. At Albano 91

10. "Near Anio's stream, I spied a gentle

Dove" 92

11. From the Alb an Hills, looking towards

Rome 93

[ vii ]



CONTENTS

12. Near the Lake of Tiirasymene . . 94

13. Near the same Lake . ... 95

14. The Cuckoo at Laveuna, May 25, 1837 96

15. At the Convent of Camaldoli . . 101
IG. Continued 102

17. At the Eremite or Upper Convent of

Camaldoli 103

18. At Vallombrosa 104

19. At Florence 108

20. Before the Picture of the Baptist, by

Raphael, in the Gallery at Florence 110

21. At Florence — From Michael Angelo 112

22. At Florence — From M. Angelo . . 114

23. Among the Ruins of a Convent in the Apen-

nines 115

24. In Lomhardy 117

25. AlTER LEAVING ItALY . . . .118

20. Continued 120

At Bologna, in Remembrance of the late Insur-
rections, 1837 — 121

[ viii ]



CONTENTS

1. "Ah, why deceive ourselves! by no mere

fit" .121

2. "Hard task! exclaim the undisciplined,

TO lean" 122

3. "As LEAVES ARE TO THE TREE WHEREON

THEY grow" 123

"What if our numbers barely could defy" . 124

A Night Thought 125

To the Planet Venus. Upon its Approximation
(as an Evening Star) to the Earth, January
1838 127



128
129
130
131



Composed at Rydal on May Morning, 1838
Composed on a May Morning, 1838
"Hark! 't is the Thrush, undaunted, undeprest'
" 'T IS He whose yester-evening's high disdain
"Oh what a Wreck! how changed in mien and

Speech!" ........ 132

A Plea for Authors, May 1838 .... 133

A Poet to his Grandchild. (Sequel to the Fore-
going.) 134

[ ix]



CONTENTS

"Blest Statesman He, whose Mind's unselfish

will" 135

Valedictory Sonnet. Closing the Volume of

Sonnets published in 1838 .... 136

Sonnet. Protest against the Ballot . . . 137

SONNETS UPON THE PUNISHMENT OF DEATH.

IN SERIES 138

1. Suggested by the View of Lancaster Cas-

tle (on the Road from the South) . 138

2. "Tenderly do we feel by Nature's Law " 139

3. "The Roman Consul doomed his sons to

die" HO

4. "Is Death, when evil against good has

fought" in

5. "Not to the object specially designed" 112
G. "Ye brood of conscience — Spectres!

THAT frequent" 113

7. "BeFOIMC the would had PAST HER TIME

OF youth" lit

1 X ]



CONTENTS

8. "Fit retribution, by the moral code" 145

9. "Though to give timely warning and

deter" 146

10. "Our bodily life, some plead, that life

the shrine" 147

11. "Ah, think how one compelled for life

TO abide" ...... 148

12. "See the Condemned alone within his

cell" 149

13. Conclusion 150

14. Apology 151

Sonnet on a Portrait of I. F., painted by Mar-
garet Gillies 152

Sonnet to I. F 153

Poor Robin 154

On a Portrait of the Duke of Wellington upon

the Field of Waterloo, by Haydon . . 157

To A Painter 158

On the same Subject ...... 159

" When Severn's sweeping flood had overthrown " 160

[xi]



CONTENTS

"Intent on gathering wool from hedge and

brake" ICl

Prelude prefixed to the Volume entitled " Poems

CHIEFLY of Early and Late Years" . . 162

Floating Island 165

"The Crescent-Moon, the Star of Love" . . 1(57
To a Redbreast — (in Sickness) .... 168

MISCELLANEOUS SONNETS —

"A Poet! — He hath put his heart to school" 109

"The most alluring clouds that mount the sky " 170

"Feel for the wrongs to universal ken" . 171
In Allusion to Various Recent Histories and

Notices of the French Revolution . . 172

Continued 173

Concluded 174

"Men of the Western World! in Fatk/s dark

book" 17.5

"L<^I wiiKiii: SHE stands fixed in a saint-like

trance" 176



[ xii ]



CONTENTS

The Noraian Boy 177

The Poet's Dream. Sequel to the Norman Boy 181
The Widow on Windermere Side . . . 188

AiREY-FoRCE Valley 191

"Lyre! though such power do in thy magic

live" 192

To the Clouds 194

"Wansfell! this Household has a favoured lot" 198

The Eagle and the Dove 199

Grace Darling . . . . . • .200
"While be.\ms of orient light shoot wide and

high" 204

To the Rev. Christopher Wordsworth, D.D.,
Master of Harrow School. After the pe-
rusal of his " Theophilus Anglicanus," re-
cently published 205

Inscription for a Monument in Crosthwaite

Church, in the Vale of Keswick . . . 206
On the projected Kendal and Windeidiere Rail-

way 207

[ xiii ]



CONTENTS

"Proud were ye, Mountains, when, in times of
old"

At Furness Abbey

"Forth from a jutting ridge, around whose
base"

The Westmoreland Girl

To MY Grandchildren —

1. "Seek who will delight in fable

2. "Now, to a maturer Audience"

At Furness Abbey

"Yes! thou art fair, yet be not moved"

"What heavenly smiles! O Lady mine"

To A Lady, in answer to a request that I would

write her a Poem upon some Drawings that
she had made of Flowers in the Island of
Madeira

"Glad sight wherever new with old

Love lies Bllioding

Companion to the Foregoing

The Cuckoo-Clock

I xiv J



208
209

210

212

212
213
217
218
219



220

222
223
226
228



CONTENTS

"So FAIR, SO SWEET, WITHAL SO SENSITIVE" . . 231

To THE Pennsylvanians 233

"Young England — what is then become of

Old" 234

"Though the bold wings of Poesy affect" . 235
Suggested by a Picture of the Bird of Para-
dise . . 236

Sonnet ......... 239

"Where lies the truth.' has Man, in wisdom's

CREED 240

"I KNOW AN AGED MaN CONSTRAINED TO DWELL " 241

" How BEAUTIFUL THE QuEEN OF NiGHT, ON HIGH " . 243

Evening Voluntaries —

To Lucca Giordano 244

"Who BUT is pleased to watch the moon on

high" 245

Illustrated Books and Newspapers . . . 240

"The unremitting voice of nightly streajis" . 247

Sonnet. (To an Octogenarian.) .... 248

On the Banks of a Rocky Stream . . . 249

[ XV ]



CONTENTS

Ode on the Installation of His Royal Highness
Prince Albert as Chancellor of the Uni-
versity OF Cambridge, July 1847 . . 250



POEMS

1834-1847



POEMS

1843-1847

"NOT IN THE LUCID INTERVALS OF

LIFE"

1834 1835

The lines following "nor do words" were written with Lord
Byron's character, as a poet, before me, and that of others, his
contemporaries, who wrote under Hke influences.

Not in the lucid intervals of life
That come but as a curse to party-strife;
Not in some hour when Pleasure with a sigh
Of languor puts his rosy garland by;
Not in the breathing-times of that poor slave
Who daily piles up wealth in Mammon's cave —
Is Nature felt, or can be; nor do words,
Which practised talent readily affords,
Prove that her hand has touched responsive chords;
Nor has her gentle beauty power to move
With genuine rapture and with fervent love
The soul of Genius, if he dare to take
Life's rule from passion craved for passion's sake;
Untaught that meekness is the cherished bent

[3 ]



NOT IN. THE LUCID INTERVALS OF LIFE

Of all the truly great and all the innocent.

But who is innocent? By grace divine.
Not otherwise, O Nature! we are thine.
Through good and evil thine, in just degree
Of rational and manly sympathy.
To all that Earth from pensive hearts is stealing,
And Heaven is now to gladdened eyes revealing,
Add every charm the Universe can show
Through every change its aspects undergo —
Care may be respited, but not repealed;
No perfect cure grows on that bounded field.
Vain is the pleasure, a false calm the peace,
If He, through whom alone our conflicts cease.
Our virtuous hopes without relapse advance.
Come not to speed the Soul's deliverance;
To the distempered Intellect refuse
His gracious help, or give what we abuse.



BY THE SIDE OF RYDAL MERE

1834 1835

The linnet's warble, sinking towards a close,
Hints to the thrush 't is time for their repose;
The shrill-voiced thrush is heedless, and again
The monitor revives his own sweet strain;
But both will soon be mastered, and the copse
Be left as silent as the mountain-tops,
Ere some commanding star dismiss to rest
The throng of rooks, that now, from twig or nest,
(After a steady flight on home-bound v/ings,
And a last game of mazy hoverings
Around their ancient grove) with cawing noise
Disturb the liquid music's equipoise.

O Nightingale! Who ever heard thy song
Might here be moved, till Fancy grows so strong
That listening sense is pardonably cheated
Where wood or stream by thee was never greeted.
Surely, from fairest spots of favoured lands.
Were not some gifts withheld by jealous hands.
This hour of deepening darkness here would be
As a fresh morning for new harmony;
And lays as prompt would hail the dawn of Night:

[5 ]



BY THE SIDE OF RYDAL MERE

A dawn she has both beautiful and bright,
When the East kindles with the full moon's light;
Not like the rising sun's impatient glow
Dazzling the mountains, but an overflow
Of solemn splendour, in mutation slow.

Wanderer by spring with gradual progress led,
For sway profoundly felt as widely spread;
To king, to peasant, to rough sailor, dear,
And to the soldier's trumpet-wearied ear;
How welcome wouldst thou be to this green Vale
Fairer than Tempe! Yet, sweet Nightingale!
From the warm breeze that bears thee on, alight
At will, and stay thy migratory flight;
Build, at thy choice, or sing, by pool or fount,
Who shall complain, or call thee to account?
The wisest, happiest, of our kind arc they
That ever walk content with Nature's wav,
God's goodness — measuring bounty as it may;
For whom the gravest thought of what they miss.
^Chastening the fulness of a present bliss,
Is with that wholesome office satisfied.
While unrci)iiiing sadness is allied
In thankful bosoms to a modest pride.



"SOFT AS A CLOUD IS YON BLUE

RIDGE"

1834 1835

Soft as a cloud is yon blue Ridge — the Mere
Seems firm as solid crystal, breathless, clear,
And motionless; and, to the gazer's eye,
Deeper than ocean, in the immensity
Of its vague mountains and unreal sky!
But, from the process in that still retreat,
Turn to minuter changes at our feet;
Observe how dewy Twilight has withdrawn
The crowd of daisies from the shaven lawn.
And has restored to view its tender green.
That, while the sun rode high, was lost beneath

their dazzling sheen.
— An emblem this of what the sober Hour
Can do for minds disposed to feel its power !
Thus oft, when we in vain have wished away
The petty pleasures of the garish day,
Meek eve shuts up the whole usurping host
(Unbashful dwarfs each glittering at his post)
And leaves the disencumbered spirit free
To reassume a staid simplicity.

[ 7 ]



SOFT AS A CLOUD IS YON BLUE RIDGE

'T is well — but what are helps of time and place,
When wisdom stands in need of nature's grace;
Why do good thoughts, invoked or not, descend,
Like Angels from their bowers, our virtues to befriend;
If yet To-morrow, unbelicd, may say,
"I come to open out, for fresh display.
The elastic vanities of yesterday"?



"THE LEAVES THAT RUSTLED ON
THIS OAK-CROWNED HILL"

1834 1835

Composed by the side of Grasmere lake. The mountains that
enclose the vale, especially towards Easdale. are most favour-
able to the reverberation of sound. There is a passage in the
"Excursion," towards the close of the fourth book, where the
voice of the raven in flight is traced through the modifications
it undergoes, as I have often heard it in that vale and others of
this district.

" Often, at the hour
When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard,
AYithin the circuit of this fabric huge.
One voice — the solitary raven."

The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill,
And sky that danced among those leaves, are still;
Rest smooths the way for sleep; in field and bower
Soft shades and dews have shed their blended power
On drooping eyelid and the closing flower;
Sound is there none at which the faintest heart
Might leap, the weakest nerve of superstition start;
Save when the Owlet's unexpected scream
Pierces the ethereal vault; and ('mid the gleam
Of unsubstantial imagery, the dream,
From the hushed vale's realities, transferred

[ 0]



THE LEAVES THAT RUSTLED

To the still lake) the imaginative Bird
Seems, 'mid inverted mountains, not unheard.

Grave Creature ! — whether, while the moon shines
bright
On thy wings opened wide for smoothest flight.
Thou art discovered in a roofless tower,
Rising from what may once have been a lady's bower;
Or spied where thou sitt'st moping in thy mew
At the dim centre of a churchyard yew;
Or, from a rifted crag or ivy tod
Deep in a forest, thy secure abode.
Thou giv'st, for pastime's sake, by shriek or shout,
A puzzling notice of thy whereabout —
May the night never come, nor day be seen.
When I shall scorn thy voice or mock thy mien!

In classic ages men percei\'ed a soul
Of sapience in thy aspect, headless Owl !
Thee Athens reverenced in the studious grove;
And, near the golden sceptre grasped by Jove,
His Eagle's favourite perch, while round him sate
The Gods revolving the decrees of Fate,
Thou, too, wert present at Minerva's side: —
Hark to that second larum ! — far and wide
The elements have heard, and rock and cave rcj)li(Ml.



THE LABOURER'S NOON-DAY HYMN

1834 1835

Bishop Ken's Morning and Evening Hymns are, as they de-
serve to be, familiarly known. Many other hymns have also
been written on the same subject; but, not being aware of any
being designed for noon-day, I was induced to compose these
verses. Often one has occasion to observe cottage children
carrying, in their baskets, dinner to their Fathers engaged
with their daily labours in the fields and woods. How grati-
fying would it be to me could I be assured that any portion of
these stanzas had been sung by such a domestic concert under
such circumstances. A friend of mine has told me that she in-
troduced this Hymn into a village-school which she superin-
tended, and the stanzas in succession furnished her with texts
to comment upon in a way which without difficulty was made
intelligible to the children, and in which they obviously took
delight, and they were taught to sing it to the tune of the old
100th Psalm

Up to the throne of God is borne
The voice of praise at early morn,
And he accepts the punctual hymn
Sung as the light of day grows dim :

Nor will he turn his ear aside
From holy offerings at noontide:
Then here reposing let us raise
A song of gratitude and praise.
[ 11 ]



THE LABOURER S NOON-DAY HYMN

What though our burthen be not light,
We need not toil from morn to night;
The respite of the mid-day hour
Is in the thankful creature's power.

Blest are the moments, doubly blest.
That, drawn from this one hour of rest,
Are with a ready heart bestowed
Upon the service of our God!

Each field is then a hallowed spot,
An altar is in each man's cot,
A church in every grove that spreads
Its living roof above our heads.

Look up to Heaven! the industrious Sun
Already half his race hath run;
He cannot halt nor go astray.
But our immortal Spirits may.

Lord! since his rising in the East,
If we have faltered or transgressed,
Guide, from thy love's abundant source,
What yet remains of tliis day's course:

IIol[) with thy grace, through life's short day,
Our upward and our downward way;
And glorify for us the west.
When we shall sink to final rest.



THE REDBREAST

SUGGESTED IN A WESTMORELAND COTTAGE

1834 1835

Written at Rydal Mount. All our cats having been banished
the house, it was soon frequented by redbreasts. Two or three
of them, when the window was open, would come in, particu-
larly when Mrs. Wordsworth was breakfasting alone, and hop
about the table picking up the crumbs. My sister being then
confined to her room by sickness, as, dear creature, she still
is, had one that, without being caged, took up its abode with
her, and at night used to perch upon a nail from which a
picture had hung. It used to sing and fan her face with
its wings in a manner that was very touching.

Driven in by Autumn's sharpening air
From half-stripped woods and pastures bare,
Brisk Robin seeks a kindher home:
Not like a beggar is he come,
But enters as a looked-for guest,
Confiding in his ruddy breast.
As if it were a natural shield
Charged with a blazon on the field,
Due to that good and pious deed
Of which we in the Ballad read.
But pensive fancies putting by.
And wild-wood sorrows, speedily
[ 13 ]



THE REDBREAST

He plays the expert ventriloquist;

And, caught by glimpses now — now missed.

Puzzles the listener with a doubt

If the soft voice he throws about

Comes from within doors or without !

Was ever such a sweet confusion.

Sustained by delicate illusion?

He 's at your elbow — to your feeling

The notes are from the floor or ceiling;

And there 's a riddle to be guessed,

'Till you have marked his heaving chest.

And busy throat whose sink and swell.

Betray the Elf that loves to dwell

In Robin's bosom, as a chosen cell.

Heart-pleased we smile upon the Bird
If seen, and with like pleasure stirred
Commend him, when he 's only heard.
But small and fugitive our gain
Compared witli hers who long hath lain.
With languid limbs and patient head
Reposing on a lone sick-bed;
Where now, she daily hears a strain
That cheats her of too busy cares.
Eases her jkiIu, and helps her j^rayers.
And who but this dear Bird beguiled
The fever of llial pale-faced Child;

I 11 1



THE REDBREAST

Now cooling, with his passing wing.
Her forehead, Hke a breeze of Spring:
Recalhng now, with descant soft
Shed round her pillow from aloft,
Sweet thoughts of angels hovering nigh,
And the invisible sympathy
Of "Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and John,
Blessing the bed she lies upon"?^
And sometimes, just as listening ends
In slumber, with the cadence blends
A dream of that low-warbled hymn
Which old folk, fondly pleased to trim
Lamps of faith, now burning dim.
Say that the Cherubs, carved in stone.
When clouds gave way at dead of night
And the ancient church was filled with light.
Used to sing in heavenly tone.
Above and round the sacred places
They guard, with winged baby-faces.
Thrice happy Creature ! in all lands
Nurtured by hospitable hands:
Free entrance to this cot has he.
Entrance and exit both yet free;
And, when the keen unruffled weather
That thus brings man and bird together.
Shall with its pleasantness be past,

[ 15 ]



THE REDBREAST

And casement closed and door made fast.
To keep at bay the howling blast,
He needs not fear the season's rage.
For the whole house is Robin's cage.
Whether the bird flit here or there.
O'er table lilt, or perch on chair.
Though some may frown and make a stir.
To scare him as a trespasser.
And he belike will flinch or start.
Good friends he has to take his part;
One chiefly, who with voice and look
Pleads for him from the chimney-nook,
Where sits the Dame, and wears away
Her long and vacant holiday;
With images about her heart.
Reflected from the years gone by.
On human nature's second infancy.



LINES

SUGGESTED BY A PORTRAIT FROM THlE PENCIL OF

F. STONE

1834 1835

This Portrait has hung for many years in our principal sit-
ting-room, and represents J. Q. as she was when a girl. The
picture, though it is somewhat thinly painted, has much
merit in tone and general effect: it is chiefly valuable, however,
from the sentiment that pervades it. The Anecdote of the
saying of the Monk in sight of Titian's picture was told in this
house by Mr. Wilkie, and was, I believe, first communicated
to the public in this poem, the former portion of which I was
composing at the time. Southey heard the story from Miss
Hutchinson, and transferred it to the "Doctor"; but it is not
easy to explain how my friend Mr. Rogers, in a note subse-
quently added to his "Italy," was led to speak of the same re-
markable words having many years before been spoken in his
hearing by a monk or priest in front of a picture of the Last
Supper, placed over a Refectory-table in a convent at Padua.

Beguiled into forgetfulness of care
Due to the day's unfinished task; of pen
Or book regardless, and of that fair scene
In Nature's prodigality displayed
Before my window, often times and long
I gaze upon a Portrait whose mild gleam
Of beauty never ceases to enrich
[ 17]



LINES SUGGESTED BY A PORTRAIT

The common light; whose stillness charms the air,
Or seems to charm it, into like repose;
Whose silence, for the pleasure of the ear.
Surpasses sweetest music. There she sits
With emblematic purity attired
In a white vest, white as her marble neck
Is, and the pillar of the throat would be
But for the shadow by the drooping chin
Cast into that recess — the tender shade.
The shade and light, both there and everywhere,
And through the very atmosphere she breathes,
Broad, clear, and toned harmoniously, with skill
That might from nature have been learnt in the hour
When the lone shepherd sees the morning spread
Upon the mountains. Look at her, whoe'er
Thou be that, kindling with a poet's soul.
Hast loved the painter's true Promethean craft
Intensely — from Imagination take
The treasure, — what mine eyes behold, see thou.
Even though the Atlantic ocean roll between.
A silver line, that runs from brow to crown
And in llic middle parts the braided hair.
Just serves to slnnv liow ilclicale a soil
The golden harvest grows in; and lliose eyes,
Soft and capacious as a cloudless sky
Whose azure depth their colour enmlates,

[ 1« J



LINES SUGGESTED BY A PORTRAIT

Must needs be conversant with upward looks.

Prayer's voiceless service; but now, seeking nought

And shunning nought, their own peculiar hfe

Of motion they renounce, and with the head

Partake its inclination towards earth

In humble grace, and quiet pensiveness

Caught at the point where it stops short of sadness.

Offspring of soul-bewitching Art, make me
Thy confidant ! say, whence derived that air
Of calm abstraction? Can the ruling thought
Be with some lover far away, or one
Crossed by misfortune, or of doubted faith?
Inapt conjecture! Childhood here, a moon
Crescent in simple loveliness serene.
Has but approached the gates of womanhood.
Not entered them; her heart is yet unpierced
By the blind Archer-god ; her fancy free :
The fount of feeling if unsought elsewhere.
Will not be found.


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