Yet did not the wise patriot's grief impede 100
His virtuous will, nor was his heart inclined
One moment with such woman-like distress
To view the transient storms of civil war,
As thence to yield his country and her hopes
To all-devouring bondage. His bright helm,
Even while the traitor's impious act is told,
He buckles on his hoary head; he girds
With mail his stooping breast; the shield, the spear
He snatcheth; and with swift indignant strides
The assembled people seeks; proclaims aloud 110
It was no time for counsel; in their spears
Lay all their prudence now; the tyrant yet
Was not so firmly seated on his throne,
But that one shock of their united force
Would dash him from the summit of his pride,
Headlong and grovelling in the dust. 'What else
Can reassert the lost Athenian name,
So cheaply to the laughter of the world
Betray'd; by guile beneath an infant's faith
So mock'd and scorn'd? Away, then: Freedom now 120
And Safety dwell not but with Fame in arms;
Myself will shew you where their mansion lies,
And through the walks of Danger or of Death
Conduct you to them.
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