QUANTUM MUTATA
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HERE was a time in Europe long agoWhen no man died for freedom anywhere,But England’s lion leaping from its lairLaid hands on the oppressor! it was soWhile England could a great Republic show.Witness the men of Piedmont, chiefest careOf Cromwell, when with impotent despairThe Pontiff in his painted porticoTrembled before our stern ambassadors.How comes it then that from such high estateWe have thus fallen, save that LuxuryWith barren merchandise piles up the gateWhere noble thoughts and deeds should enter by:Else might we still be Milton’s heritors.
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