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2.
Wrath that awakes And fetters breaks, Ne'er the warrior's heart forsakes
The wrath that speaks aloud, While one invader can be found, Whose foot pollutes our holy ground, That oft has smil'd when fortune frown'd,
So fearless and so proucl. Kindling every eye, The wrath, my dearest, that will die, When we have made the foeman fly,
And yield its place to love. The love for wife, for children, all That faithful hearts their own would call, A love that nothing can enthrall,
That nothing is above. |
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H. 48C8. |
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