Despond Who Will, 'I' Heard A Voice Exclaim, "Though Fierce The Assault, And Shattered The Defense, It Cannot Be That Britain'S Social Frame, The Glorious Work Of Time And Providence, Before A Flying Season'S Rash Pretense, Should Fall; That She, Whose Virtue Put To Shame, When Europe Prostrate Lay, The Conqueror'S Aim, Should Perish, Self-Subverted. Black And Dense The Cloud Is; But Brings 'That' A Day Of Doom. To Liberty? Her Sun Is Up The While, That Orb Whose Beams Round Saxon Alfred Shone: Then Laugh, Ye Innocent Vales! Ye Streams, Sweep On, Nor Let One Billow Of Our Heaven-Blest Isle Toss In The Fanning Wind A Humbler Plume."