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Alfred Lord Tennyson - The Princess: A Medley: Thy Voice is Heard
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Thy voice is heard thro` rolling drums,
        That beat to battle where he stands;
Thy face across his fancy comes,
        And gives the battle to his hands:
A moment, while the trumpets blow,
        He sees his brood about thy knee;
The next, like fire he meets the foe,
        And strikes him dead for thine and thee.
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