Alas, poor country, almost afraid to know itself! It cannot be called our mother, but our grave.

“You speak like a green girl / unsifted in such perilous circumstances.”

“Strike up our drums! Pursue the scatter'd stray.God, and not we, hath safely fo…”

“And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, millions of mischiefs.”

“Fare thee well/ A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.”