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In Glory's circling arms the hero bled,

"While Victory bound the laurel on his head :

At once immortal, in botli worlds, became

His soaring spirit and abiding name :

— S!ie thought of Pitt, heart-broken, on his bier ;

And ' O, my Country!' echoed in her ear;

— She thought of Fox ; — she heard him faintly speak,

His parting breath grew cold upon her cheek,

His dying accents trembled into air;


 * Spare injured Africa ! the Negro spare 1'

She started from her trance ! — and round the shore, Beheld her supplicating sons once more Pleading the suit so long, so vainly tried, Renew'd, resisted, promised, pledged, denietl. The Negro's claim to all his ^laker gave, And all the tyrant ravish'd from the slave. Her yielding heart confcss'd the righteous claim, Sorrow had softcn'd it, and love o'crcame ;

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