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XXVIII.Old Albert saw him from the valley's side—His pirogue launched—his pilgrimage begun—Far, like the red-bird's wing he seemed to glide;Then dived, and vanished in the woodlands dun.Oft, to that spot by tender memory won,Would Albert climb the promontory's height,If but a dim sail glimmered in the sun;But never more, to bless his longing sight,Was Outalissi hailed, with bark and plumage bright.

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