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Destined to shine thro' many a distant age
With sun-like splendour.

Wondrous was her wealth,
The world itself her willing tributary ;
Yet, to accomplish what her soul desired,
All was as nothing; and the mightiest kings,
Each in his hour of strife exhausted, fallen,
Drew strength from Her, their coffers from her own
Filled to o'erflowing. When her fleets of war
Had swept the main—had swept it and were gone,
Gone from the eyes and from the minds of men,
Their dreadful errands so entirely done-
Up rose her armies ; on the land they stood,
Fearless, erect; and in an instant smote
Him with his legions.*

Yet ere long 'twas hers,
Great as her triumphs, to eclipse them all,
To do what none had done, none had conceived,
An act how glorious, making joy in Heaven;
When, such her prodigality, condemned
To toil and toil, alas, how hopelessly,
Herself in bonds, for

unredeemed
As with a god-like energy she sprung, ,
All else forgot, and, burdened as she was,
Ransomed the African.t

ages

* Alluding to the battle of Waterloo. The illustrious Man who commanded there on our side, and who, in his anxiety to do justice to others, never fails to forget himself, said to me many years afterwards with some agitation, when relating an occurrence of that day, “It was a battle of giants ! a battle of giants !"

+ Parliament had only to register the edict of the People. -CHANNING.

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BRADBURY AND EVANS,
PRINTERS EXTRAORDINARY TO THE QUEEN,

WUITEFRIARS.

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