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A BALLAD. |
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All means for peace we've tried, But found those measures vain, North's ministerial pride, Thought fear made us complain ; But in the end convinc'd he'll see, We dread not death, but slavery.
Tho' fatal lust of power, Has steel'd the tyrant's soul, Tho' in an ill-timed hour, He bid his thunders roll, Great Liberty, inspir'd by thee, We fly to death or victory!
Great nature's law inspires, All free-born souls unite, While common interest fires Us to defend our rights, |
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Against corruption's boundless And firmly fix great freedom's |
claim, reign. |
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They foreign troops employ, For mercenary hire; |
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