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English Satires
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Chapter 118 118

Where shall I turn me not to view its bonds,

For I will never feel them:-Italy!

Thy late reviving Roman soul desponds

Beneath the lie this State-thing breathed o'er thee-

Thy clanking chain, and Erin's yet green wounds,

Have voices-tongues to cry aloud for me.

Europe has slaves-allies-kings-armies still,

And Southey lives to si

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