Stand! the ground’s your own, my braves!
Will ye give it up to slaves?
Will ye look for greener graves?
  Hope ye mercy still?
What ’s the mercy despots feel?
Hear it in that battle-peal!
Read it on yon bristling steel!
  Ask it,—ye who...

O Thou vast Ocean! ever-sounding Sea!
Thou symbol of a drear immensity!
Thou thing that windest round the solid world
Like a huge animal, which, downward hurled
From the black clouds, lies weltering and alone,
Lashing and writhing till its strength be gone...

And thou hast walked about (how strange a story!
  In Thebes’s streets three thousand years ago,
When the Memnonium was in all its glory,
  And time had not begun to overthrow
Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous,
Of which the very ruins are...

Poet: Horace Smith

STAND! 1 the ground ’s your own, my braves!
Will ye give it up to slaves?
Will ye look for greener graves?
      Hope ye mercy still?
What ’s the mercy despots feel?
Hear it in that battle-peal!
Read it on yon bristling steel!
      Ask it...

My curse upon thy venomed stang,
That shoots my tortured gums alang;
An’ through my lugs gies mony a twang,
        Wi’ gnawing vengeance!
Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang,
        Like racking engines.

When fevers burn, or ague freezes,...

Poet: Robert Burns