`Coscienza fusca O della propria o dell` altrui vergogna Pur sentira la tua parola brusca.` If I let fall a word of bitter mirth When public shames more shameful pardon won, Some have misjudged me, and my service done, If small, yet faithful, deemed of little worth: Through veins that drew their life from Western earth Two hundred years and more my blood hath run In no polluted course from sire to son; And thus was I predestined ere my birth To love the soil wherewith my fibres own Instinctive sympathies; yet love it so As honor would, nor lightly to dethrone Judgment, the stamp of manhood, nor forego The son`s right to a mother dearer grown With growing knowledge and more chaste than snow.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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