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MR. MCPHERSON'S POETRY. 161
The broken skull and shiver'd helmet strow'd,
The sandy plain that reeks with human blood ;
He gasping falls, and shakes the thund'ring ground,
And dying, toss'd his quiv'ring limbs around.' —
Thus falls an -oak that long majestic stood
The tallest honours of the waving wood.
Deep-hack'd by the ship-wright's unerring hand,
Groans, slow-inclines, and fulling, shakes the land.
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