Who Shall Silence All The Airs And

Death To Life Is Crown Or Shame.

Bacchus, That First From Out The Purple Grape Crush'd The Sweet Poison Of Misused Wine.

These Are Thy Glorious Works, Parent Of Good!

Son Of Heav'n And Earth, Attend: That Thou Art Happy, Owe To God; That Thou Continuest Such, Owe To Thyself, That Is, To Thy Obedience; Therein Stand.

Methinks I See In My Mind A Noble And Puissant Nation Rousing Herself Like A Strong Man After Sleep, And Shaking Her Invincible Locks; Methinks I See Her As An Eagle Mewing Her Mighty Youth, And Kindling Her Undazzled Eyes At The Full Midday Beam.