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(Sacred, or classic) thou delight'st to hear
The votive salutation, O! attend,
From those empyreal regions where thou sitt'st,
Among the ministering seraphim enthron'd
Who guard our sea-girt realm; and, by the side
Of Albion, awful in cerulean robe,
Shar'st (from primeval time) the trust conferr'd
Of heav'nly tutelage; with helmed brow
And missile thunder, from the horrent shores
Chacing invasive Ravage; or the breast
Of mission'd Patriot with sublimest rage,
In perilous hour, inspiring, to confound
Inborn Oppression, with triumphant arm,
Or martyrdom more glorious. Thee I call,
That, in the wrong'd Northumbrian's dauntless soul
Breathing ethereal energy, inform'd
His mind to worth and wisdom; such as ne'er
Beam'd in his darker age; nor ever warm'd
Chieftain, or sage, or hero of this isle,
Anglian or British, till, in after times,
Ina and Alfred in his godlike steps
Trod reverent; and, by his example fir'd,
Tower'd to immortal fame. O! then, descend,
Seraphic ardour! from thy starry throne—
My theme's appropriate patron!—As to thee
Belongs The Hero, so inspire The Song.
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