The Fall of Caesar
When Caesar fell, he braved each killing wound,
And awful lay dictator on the ground.
But when a friend, or something nearer thought,
Imposed a stab, who should relief have brought;
The dying hero hid his generous face,
When blushes rose in scorn of human race.
And awful lay dictator on the ground.
But when a friend, or something nearer thought,
Imposed a stab, who should relief have brought;
The dying hero hid his generous face,
When blushes rose in scorn of human race.
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