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Poem by Thomas Warton Written at Stonehenge Thou noblest monument of Albion's isle! Whether by Merlin's aid, from Scythia's shore, To Amber's fatal plain Pendragon bore, Huge frame of giant-hands, the mighty pile T' entomb his Britons slain by Hengist's guile: Or Druid priests, sprinkled with human gore, Taught 'mid thy massy maze their mystic lore: Or Danish chiefs, enrich'd with savage spoil, To Victory's idol vast, an unhewn shrine, Rear'd the rude heap: or, in thy hallow'd round, Repose the kings of Brutus' genuine line; Or here those kings in solemn state were crown'd: Studious to trace thy wondrous origine, We muse on many an ancient tale renown'd. Thomas Warton Thomas Warton's other poems:
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