She lets thee live. She knows how rich and rare
Are songs like thine, and how the smallest bird
May make much music in the summer air,
And how a curse may turn into a prayer.
XX.
Take back thy taunt, I say; and with the same
Accept our pardon; or, if this offend,
Why then no pardon, e'en in England's name.
We have our country still, and thou thy fame!