Gay Hope Is Theirs By Fancy Fed,

Far From The Madding Crowd's Ignoble Strife.

Scatter Plenty O'er A Smiling Land.

I Shall Be But A Shrimp Of An Author.

They Hear A Voice In Every Wind, And Snatch A Fearful Joy.

Ruin Seize Thee, Ruthless King! Confusion On Thy Banners Wait! Though Fann'd By Conquest's Crimson Wing, They Mock The Air With Idle State.