Hell Is A City Much

Music, When Soft Voices Die Vibrates In The Memory.

Rise Like Lions After Slumber In Unvanquishable Number- Shake Your Chains To Earth Like Dew Which In Sleep Had Fallen On You Ye Are Many-they Are Few.

I Know The Cause Of All Human Disappointment -- Worldly Prejudice.

Be Your Strong And Simple Words Keen To Wound As Sharpened Swords, And Wide As Targes Let Them Be, With Their Shade To Cover Ye.

Men Of England, Wherefore Plough For The Lords Who Lay You Low?