From morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,- A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropp'd from the Zenith like a falling star.
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
For so I created them free and free they must remain.
Faithful found among the faithless.
Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe.
His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral were but a wand, He walk'd with to support uneasy steps Over the burning marle.