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Oft had her oaks their tribute brought. To rib its flanks, with thunder fraught ;

But late her evil star Had cursed it on its homeward way, — ' The spoiler shall become the prey.*

Thus warn'd, Britannia's anxious heart Throbb'd with prophetic woe,

When she beheld that ship depart, A fair ill-omen'd show !

So views the mother, through her tears,

The daughter of her hopes and fears, When hectic beauties glow

On the frail cheek, where sweetly bloom

The roses of an early tomb.

No fears the brave adventurers knew ;

Peril and death they spurn'd ; Like full-fledged eagles forth they flew ;

Jove's birds, that proudly burn'd.

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