"So, in the cave of Aeolus, he prisoned
The North-Wind, and the West-Wind, and such others
As ever banish cloud, and he turned loose
The South-Wind, and the South-Wind came out streaming
With dripping wings, and pitch-black darkness veiling
His terrible countenance. His beard is heavy
With rain-cloud, and his hoary locks a torrent,
Mists are his chaplet,
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