No War Or Battle Sound Was Heard

Behold Now This Vast City [london]; A City Of Refuge, The Mansion-house Of Liberty, Encompassed And Surrounded With His Protection.

Now The Bright Morning-star, Day's Harbinger, Comes Dancing From The East, And Leads With Her The Flowery May, Who From Her Green Lap Throws The Yellow Cowslip And The Pale Primrose. Hail, Bounteous May, That Dost Inspire Mirth, And Youth, And Warm Desire! Woods And Groves Are Of Thy Dressing; Hill And Dale Doth Boast Thy Blessing. Thus We Salute Thee With Our Early Song, And Welcome Thee, And Wish Thee Long.

All Is Not Lost, The Unconquerable Will, And Study Of Revenge, Immortal Hate, And The Courage Never To Submit Or Yield.

What Better Can We Do Than Prostrate Fall Before Him Reverent, And There Confess Humbly Our Faults, And Pardon Beg With Tears Watering The Ground?

To Be Blind Is Not Miserable; Not To Be Able To Bear Blindness, That Is Miserable.