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We are all children of one family
We have a common father – sharing all
His wise & equal generous cares – & we are bound
Thro' the same journey of vicissitudes
To the same peaceful – universal home
They who have made this family-hall – the earth
Bring with their violent passions – soon shall sleep
Voiceless in the same dust; – A few short years
Of seeming unequality – a day
Of pride & pomp – and then the scene will change
And all be equal! – Who would then assume
Those airs of self-complacency – whose glare
Is of a moment – soon to be abashed
And trampled on by the rude feet of death.
He cares not for the purple – Sceptres – crowns –
He loves to play with, – & in mockery looks
On the parade of princes! – Laughs to scorn
The feats of heroes, – one rude glance of his
Can freeze a Blücher's boiling blood; – & turn
A Wellington to his original dust – to nothingness –
'Twere well if those who strut about the world
Identifier: | JB/110/178/002 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
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110 |
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178 |
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002 |
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collectanea |
2 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
[[watermarks::[partial crown motif]]] |
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36168 |
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