Chapter_110

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“One rich thing⁠—or, it may be, more than this⁠ ⁠…

Might I not reach the borders of a land

That ought to have been mine? And there, the bliss

Of free speech, there the eyes that understand,

The men free grown, not modelled by the hand

Of masters⁠—men that know, or men that seek,

—They will not gape and murmur when I speak.”