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Fronting its valiant breast to the fierce onset Of worthless power, that it full surely stood: That ev'ry spiritual and righteous power Was on its side: and in this faith, oftimes, Methought I could into the furnace mouth Have thrust my hand, and grasp'd the molten flames. Yet it fell on his head: that noble head, Upon whose manly gracefulness was fix'd The gaze of ev'ry eye. Oh! on his lib'ral front there beam'd a look, Unto the which all good and gen'rous hearts Answer return'd.—It was a gentle head, Bending in pleasant kindliness to all; So that the timid, who approach'd him trembling, With cheer'd and vaunting steps retir'd again. It was a crowned head, yet was it left Expos'd and fenceless in the hour of danger: What should have been his safety was his bane. Away, poor mock'ry of a wretched state! Be ye strew'd to the winds! But for this let We had been blest; for he as truly loved, In simplest tenderness, as the poor hind, Who takes his humble house-mate by the hand, And says, "this is my all."—Off, cursed band! Which round our happiness hath been entwin'd Like to a strangling cord: upon the earth