Chapter 33 of 85 · 47 words · ~1 min read

V.

Oh swiftly on my country’s head, Destroyer, lay thy ruthless hand; Nor yet in Gallic terrors clad, Nor circled by the _Marseilles band_, (As by th’ initiate thou art seen), With thund’ring cannon, _guillotine_, With screaming Horror’s funeral cry, Fire, Rapine, sword, and chains, and ghastly Poverty.