Behind a great flowering shrub Hanson lay gazing at the

A little blood could give them had they seen

Behind a great flowering shrub Hanson lay gazing at the

That Caesar's self was wounded. Down he pressed

Behind a great flowering shrub Hanson lay gazing at the

Deep in his soul the anguish, and, with mien,

Behind a great flowering shrub Hanson lay gazing at the

No longer bent on fight, submissive cried,

"Spare me, ye citizens; remove the war

Far hence: no weapons now can haste my death;

Draw from my breast the darts, but add no more.

Yet raise me up to place me in the camp

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