Page:A channel passage and other poems (IA channelpassageot00swinrich).pdf/179

 For other pride to dream of: scorn Strikes retribution silent as the stars at morn.

And now the living breath Whose life puts death to death, Freedom, whose name is England, stirs and thrills The burning darkness through Whence fraud and slavery grew, We scarce may mourn our dead whose fame fulfils The record where her foes have read That earth shall see none like her born ere earth be dead.