I Have Unclasp'd To Thee

My Dull Brain Was Wrought With Things Forgotten.

The Fringed Curtains Of Thine Eye Advance, And Say What Thou Seest Yond.

O England! Model To Thy Inward Greatness, Like Little Body With A Might Heart.

A Little More Than Kin, And Less Than Kind.

No Place Indeed Should Murder Sanctuarize; Revenge Should Have No Bounds.