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Content, as random Fancies might inspire,
Some softened tones to Nature not untrue.
My heart has thanked thee, Bow LEs for those
As late I lay in slumber's shadowy vale,
Though roused by that dark Vizir Riot rude Have driven our PRIESTLY o'er the ocean swell; Though SUPERSTITION and her wolfish brood Bay his mild radiance, impotent and fell; Calm in his halls of Brightness he shall dwell! For lo! RELIGION at his strong behest Starts with mild anger from the Papal spell, And flings to Earth her tinsel-glittering vest, Her mitred state and cumbrous pomp unholy; And Justice wakes to bid the Oppressor wail Insulting aye the wrongs of patient Folly; And from her dark retreat by Wisdom won Meek NATURE slowly lifts her matron veil To smile with fondness on her gazing son!
WHEN British Freedom for an happier land
It was some Spirit, SHERIDAN : that breathed