This bronze doth keep the very form and mould
  Of our great martyr’s face. Yes, this is he:
  That brow all wisdom, all benignity;
  That human, humorous mouth; those cheeks that hold
Like some harsh landscape all the summer’s gold;
  That spirit fit for...

Great Nature is an army gay,
Resistless marching on its way;
          I hear the bugles clear and sweet,
I hear the tread of million feet.
          Across the plain I see it pour;
It tramples down the waving grass;
Within the echoing mountain-...