At hoar sunrise, before stars fade
from slumber rise to dress parade.
We steal supplies in angry raid,
with steel surprise in ambuscade:
the tyrant’s spies retire dismayed.
They dropp like flies, their force is frayed;
his martial might, too far has strayed,
is faint, afright, withdraws afraid.
They’ll not stake fight, no longer staid,
see cowards’ flight, - we’ll not be stayed.
Can cowards’ greed crush Liberty?
I shall succeed! Democracy!
Life President soon shall I be! ...
I see unrest strip power from me,
from Satan sent, vile tyranny! ...
Ah! Swiss accounts’ security!
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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