![]() Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, The little tyrant of his fields withstood ![]() Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll Īnd froze the genial current of the soul.įull many a flower is born to blush unseen,Īnd waste its sweetness on the desert air. Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd,īut Knowledge to their eyes her ample page Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire A favourite poem of the mid-eighteenth century was Thomas Gray's 'Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard', and I find it impossible to think about Paine without revisiting this masterpiece of the might-have-been: Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid To begin with a summary of Paine's astonishing life and career is to commence with a sense of wonder that he was ever able to emerge at all. ![]() Thomas Paine's Rights of Man: A Biography ![]()
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