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Poem by Thomas Aird
Hope, with eyes of sunny seed, Smile thee on to power and deed, Champion, who the sword dost draw For Order, Liberty, and Law. O'er the heads of foes advance, Victor, lord of maintenance. Work the work. From blood abhorred Turn the face, and sheathe the sword, Patriot, with the temperate eyes, Set to Reason's harmonies. Reverence on thy coming wait, Princes meet thee in the gate!
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