Their bosoms beating with indignant rage.
Just anger! sacred ardour! “There come nigh
Those cruel foes, who hasten war to wage,
And spill our blood, when we reposed secure
Beneath the wings of peace. They who are led
By avarice vile; who friendship’s laws abjure;
Who in their endless tyranny o’erspread
Would hold condemn’d the seas; who to unite,
As brothers, pride and insolence of power
With treachery and rapacity delight;