How Low, How Little Are The Proud,

Scatter Plenty O'er A Smiling Land.

England, So Long Mistress Of The Sea, Where Winds And Waves Confess Her Sovereignty, Her Ancient Triumphs Yet On High Shall Bear And Reign The Sovereign Of The Conquered Air.

To Each His Suff'rings; All Are Men, Condemn'd Alike To Groan,- The Tender For Another's Pain, Th' Unfeeling For His Own. Yet Ah! Why Should They Know Their Fate, Since Sorrow Never Comes Too Late, And Happiness Too Swiftly Flies? Thought Would Destroy Their Paradise. No More; Where Ignorance Is Bliss, 't Is Folly To Be Wise.

I Shall Be But A Shrimp Of An Author.

Full Many A Gem Of Purest Ray Serene, The Dark Unfathomed Caves Of Ocean Bear.