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I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute on; but I wish that I could get away And go home to the village of Bruton.
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Hence jarring sectaries may learnTheir real interest to discern;That brother should not war with brother,And worry and devour each other;But sing and shine by sweet consent,Till life's poor transient night is spent,Respecting in each other's caseThe gifts of nature and of grace.
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How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
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You told me, I remember, glory, built On selfish principles, is shame and guilt; The deeds that men admire as half divine, Stark naught, because corrupt in their design. Strange doctrine this! that without scruple tears The laurel that the very lightning spares; Brings down the warrior
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He has no hope who never had a fear.
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