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Poem by George Meredith Atkins Yonder's the man with his life in his hand, Legs on the march for whatever the land, Or to the slaughter, or to the maiming, Getting the dole of a dog for pay. Laurels he clasps in the words 'duty done,' England his heart under every sun:- Exquisite humour! that gives him a naming Base to the ear as an ass's bray. George Meredith George Meredith's other poems:
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