Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Lyrics by a Briton in Gallia
Well mated they, despite the insensate cry That ancient foes must ever foes remain. What reek ye, Britons, though on land and main Erstwhile ye drove the French, nor feared to die When these struck out the harder? Crecy's plain And Patay's quivering field forgotten lie. Hail to thee, great Republic! Forth we '11 bear Our guest with shouts plebeian, not of schools. Milton was ours; 0 France, thou hadst Voltaire, And harbouredst Paine from all our bigot fools! So praise we now thy strenuous sons, who dare.
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