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Rh This charnel of the world shall reek no more, Plague-spot of all the starry universe! For I will flash the light of Europe's eyes Full on the tyrant, till he quail and cower, And vanish, a mere snowflake in the sun. England, inviolate Ark of Freedom, launch Thy thunder as of old; and hurl them low! Fulfil thy mission! fallen heroes want Yonder in heaven their crown of blessedness, Till the last bondsman clasp unfetter'd hands O'er the last slaver, whelm'd beneath the wave!

But I abide until my task be done. And if they slay their mortal enemy, It is the Lord who calls, and it is well— When they had thought to murder; reft from me All I most cherish'd on a former day; Killing my converts, even the little ones, Or sweeping them into captivity; I said, "I am not less resolved than they: They do but save me wills and codicils!" I turn my face indeed, as they intend,