The Illustrated London Reading Book by Various
page 47 of 485 (09%)
page 47 of 485 (09%)
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The clapper on his giant side
Shall ring no peal for blushing bride, For birth, or death, or new-year tide, Or festival begun! A nation's joy alone shall be The signal for his revelry; And for a nation's woes alone His melancholy tongue shall moan-- _Hurra! the work is done!_ Borne on the gale, deep-toned and clear, His long, loud summons shall we hear, When statesmen to their country dear Their mortal race have run; When mighty Monarchs yield their breath, And patriots sleep the sleep of death, Then shall he raise his voice of gloom, And peal a requiem o'er their tomb-- _Hurra! the work is done!_ Should foemen lift their haughty hand, And dare invade us where we stand, Fast by the altars of our land We'll gather every one; And he shall ring the loud alarm, To call the multitudes to arm, From distant field and forest brown, And teeming alleys of the town-- _Hurra! the work is done!_ |
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