Chapter 16

Land of the Incas, fare thee well!For thee my fancy twinesA rarer, richer coronelThan glitters in thy mines,—A circlet where each jewel flingsA ray that blasts the hope of kings.

Land of the Incas, fare thee well!For thee my fancy twinesA rarer, richer coronelThan glitters in thy mines,—A circlet where each jewel flingsA ray that blasts the hope of kings.

Land of the Incas, fare thee well!For thee my fancy twinesA rarer, richer coronelThan glitters in thy mines,—A circlet where each jewel flingsA ray that blasts the hope of kings.

Land of the Incas, fare thee well!

For thee my fancy twines

A rarer, richer coronel

Than glitters in thy mines,—

A circlet where each jewel flings

A ray that blasts the hope of kings.


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