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The field which honour moves in is not wide,
The law's her warrant, wisdom is her guide,
All else is frenzy, madness all beside.
Britons, believe it, tho' the day seems fair,
Tempests and storms are gathering in the air;
Oppression, pow'r usurp'd, and tyranny,
Can never have a long prosperity;

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Some weighty vengeance, some chos'n curse, be sure,
Some hidden thunder in the heav'nly store,
Is now discharging on the heads of those
Who dare aspire above their country's laws.
Ambitious Demons wait their fall below,
Cæsar and Cromwel, and the proud Nassau.