Cats Are A Mysterious Kind Of Folk.

Cats Are A Mysterious Kind Of Folk.

Profan'd The God-given Strength, And Marr'd The Lofty Line.

I Will Tear This Folly From My Heart, Though Every Fibre Bleed As I Rend It Away!

Breathes There The Man, With Soul So Dead, Who Never To Himself Hath Said, This Is My Own, My Native Land! Whose Heart Hath Ne'er Within Him Burn'd, As Home His Footsteps He Hath Turn'd From Wandering On A Foreign Strand! If Such There Breathe, Go Mark Him Well; For Him No Minstrel Raptures Swell; High Though His Titles, Proud His Name, Boundless His Wealth As Wish Can Claim; Despite Those Titles, Power, And Pelf, The Wretch, Concentred All In Self, Living, Shall Forfeit Fair Renown, And, Doubly Dying, Shall Go Down To The Vile Dust, From Whence He Sprung, Unwept, Unhonor'd, And Unsung.

The Sun Never Sets On The Immense Empire Of Charles V.