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MEMORIALS OF A TOUR ON THE CONTINENT, 1820

XXXIV. ON BEING STRANDED NEAR THE HARBOUR OF BOULOGNE

          WHY cast ye back upon the Gallic shore,
          Ye furious waves! a patriotic Son
          Of England--who in hope her coast had won,
          His project crowned, his pleasant travel o'er?
          Well--let him pace this noted beach once more,
          That gave the Roman his triumphal shells;
          That saw the Corsican his cap and bells
          Haughtily shake, a dreaming Conqueror!--
          Enough: my Country's cliffs I can behold,
          And proudly think, beside the chafing sea,                  10
          Of checked ambition, tyranny controlled,
          And folly cursed with endless memory:
          These local recollections ne'er can cloy;
          Such ground I from my very heart enjoy!


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