Excerpt from Workshops of Destruction
To -
Of all my friends I know not one
In tone, in form, in hue,
So quite unlike a frothing Hun,
My brilliant friend, as you.
And there you sit by Britain's sword,
And lend to dreadful strife
A mind that from its youth adored
The lovely things of life.
But all our chiefs I saw in France,
Great servants of the King,
Had something of your gentle glance,
And just your modest ring.
Then let us hope S...
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