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CROMWELL.
 
 
 
 
 
 
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16

CROMWELL.

A gallant ship, upon a stormy tide
Onward and upward borne rejoicingly,
Beyond the common bounds of land and sea;
Then, when the waters ebb, upon the side
Of ocean left, a stranded wreck, to glide
No more where breezes sweep and billows roll:—
Behold a type of the sublimest soul
That has in England reigned since Alfred died.
His visioned hopes, his stormy ardour, bore
Him onward, upward, to a perilous shore,
Then left him desolate in kingly pride.
The dream of glory and the sense of power
That raised the warrior's soul in battle's hour
Were to the lonely despot's heart denied.