If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover,Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone;I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over,And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own.
If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover,Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone;I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over,And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own.
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