The moist and quiet morn was scarcely breaking.
When Ariadne in her bower was waking;
Her eyelids still were closing, and she heard
But indistinctly yet a little bird.
...
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I enjoyed the liquid flow of the lines until they were interrupted by stars and numbers which leads me to think this is but a fragment of the original. I think I will google around for the whole poem.. if it exists.
A long poem but flows easily. Susan Williams' first sentence echoes my thoughts too.