5.
Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood!
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!
A thousand hearts are great within my bosom!
Advance our standards, set upon our foes!
Our ancient word of courage--fair Saint George--
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms!
_Shakespeare._
6.
And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of heaven,
_Hell-doomed_, and breath'st defiance here and scorn,
Where I reign king? and to enrage the more
_Thy_ King and Lord! _Back_ to thy _pun_ishment,
_False fu_gitive, and to thy speed add wings,
Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue
Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart
Strange horrors seize thee, and pangs unfelt before.
_Milton._
7.
These are Thy glorious works, Parent of Good!
Almighty! Thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair!--Thyself how wondrous, then!
Unspeakable! who sitt'st above these heavens,
To us invisible, or dimly seen
Midst these, thy lowest works!
Yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought,
And power divine!
8.
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