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74
carisbrooke:
What armour can that breast defend
From Memory's home-struck blows?
The shade of one deserted friend,
Outfrowns a thousand foes!

It plagues us in the silent hour,
It haunts us as we sleep,
It stays the heart-relieving show'r,
And mocks us as we weep!

The crown from off his sacred head
By rebels rudely torn,
An exil'd wife, and children fled,
The christian King had borne!

But when to Heaven he look'd and pray'd
To heal his agony,