Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride! They had no poet, and they died. In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled! They had no poet, and are dead.

Who dared to love their country, and be poor.

Ye Gods! annihilate but space and time, And make two lovers happy.

There, take (says Justice), take ye each a shell: We thrive at Westminster on fools like you; 'T was a fat oyster,-live in peace,-adieu.