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O let not thy birth-right be sold
For reprobate glory and gold:
Thy distant dominions like wild graftings shoot,
They weigh down thy trunk, they will tear up thy

root:

The root of thine OAK, Omy Country! that stands
Rock-planted, and flourishing free;
Its branches are stretch'd o'er the uttermost lands,
And its shadow eclipses the sea :
The blood of our ancestors nourish'd the tree;
From their tombs, from their ashes it sprung;
Its boughs with their trophies are hung;
Their spirit dwells in it:--and hark ! for it spoke ;
The voice of our fathers ascends from their Oak.

“ Ye Britons, who dwell where we conquer'd of old, Who inherit our battle-field graves ;

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Though poor were your fathers,-gigantic and bold,
We were not, we could not be, slaves ;
But firm as our rocks, and as free as our waves,
The spears of the Romans we broke,
We never stoop'd under their yoke ;
In the shipwreck of nations we stood up alone,
The world was great CÆSAR's but Britain our

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6 For ages

and
ages,

with barbarous foes,
The Saxon, Norwegian, and Gaul,
We wrestled, were foiļd, were cast down, but we rose
With new vigour, new life from each fall;
By all we were conquer'd : WE CONQUER'D

THEM ALL! - The cruel, the cannibal mind, We softened, subdued, and refined ;

7

Bears, wolves, and sea-monsters, they rush'd from

their den; We taught them, we tamed them, we turn'd them

to men,

« Love led the wild hordes in his flower-woven bands,
The tenderest, strongest of chains !
Love married our hearts, he united our hands,
And mingled the blood in our veins ;
One race we became :-on the mountains and plains,
Where the wounds of our country were closed,
The Ark of Religion reposed,
The unquenchable Altar of Liberty blazed,
And the Temple of Justice in Mercy was raised.

“ Ark, Altar, and Temple, we left with our breath
To our children, a sacred bequest !
O guard them, o keep them, in life and in death ;
So the shades of your fathers shall rest,
And your spirits with ours be in Paradise blest :

-Let ambition, the sin of the brave,
And Avarice, the soul of a slave,
No longer seduce your affections to roam
From Liberty, Justice, Religion, AT HOME!"

THE

COMMON LOT.

ONCE in the flight of ages past,
There lived a man :--and WHO was HE?
- Mortal! howe'er thy lot be cast,
That Man resembled Thee.

Unknown the region of his birth,
The land in which he died unknown:
His name has perish'd from the earth,

This truth survives alone:

That joy and grief, and hope and fear,
Alternate triumph'd in his breast;
His bliss and woe,-a smile, a tear !

Oblivion hides the rest.

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