der; Weary, yet eage

Quelette Heasley link at
Sat Aug 22 09:02:41 PDT 2009

Fe to the Bourbon, Not leave one poor corner for native Italian
exertion? France, it is foully done! and you, poor foolish England,--
You, who a twelvemonth ago said nations must choose for themselves, you
Could not, of course, interfere,--you, now, when a nation has chosen----
Pardon this folly! The Times will, of course, have announced the
occasion, Told you the news of to-day; and although it was slightly in
error When it proclaimed as a fact the Apollo was sold to a Yankee, You
may believe when it tells you the French are at Civita Vecchia. II.
Claude to Eustace. Dulce it is, and decorum, no doubt, for the country
to fall,--to Offer one's blood an oblation to Freedom, and die for the
Cause; yet Still, individual culture is also something, and no man Finds
quite distinct the assurance that he of all others is called on, Or
would be justified even, in taking away from the world that Precious
creature, himself. Nature sent him here to abide here; Else why send him
at all? Nature wants him still, it is likely; On the whole, we are meant
to look after ourselves; it is certain Each has to eat for himself,
digest for himself, and in general Care for his own dear life, and see
to his own preservation; Nature's intentions, in most things uncertain,
in this are decisive; Which, on the whole, I conjecture the Romans will
follow, and I shall. So we cling to our rocks like limpets; Ocean may
bluster, Over and under and round us; we open our shells to imbibe our
Nourishment, close them again, and are safe, fulfilling the purpose
Nature intended,--a wise one, of course, and a noble, we doubt not.
Sweet it may be and decorous, perhaps, for the country to die; but, On
the whole, we conclude the Romans won't do 
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