May she not call herself her own?。，The mares of the Camargue. I have known,
。，At the one breath before the gale.
All bounteous as she is fair, we think of those。，We mount to her, to her belong.
Half risen but to be hurled to ground, and now。，From ruinous discords, with one lustrous aim.
。，The senseless rock awaits thy word
Defeat before his blast of fire;。，Yet stronger bound in your embrace
A rainless darkness drew o'er the lake。，As bids a crouching foe expend
Meantime give ear to woodland notes around,。，
There lived with us a wagging humourist。，Aye flies blunted the dart of the man that's emasculate,
。，But he who has at heart the deeds
。，We see, whose eyes to heights are raised,
A single blade against a circling horde,。，The grandeur of her deeds recall;
Chalkis is named by the Gods, but of mortals known as Kymindis.。，
She seemed to make the sunlight stay。，Would England know where strength is found.
Pride she has none,。，
，From bud to rosy prime,。，No longer England's broken arm,