... She, That Will With Kittens Jest,

The Slaves Of Custom And Established Mode, With Pack-horse Constancy We Keep The Road Crooked Or Straight, Through Quags Or Thorny Dells, True To The Jingling Of Our Leader's Bells.

Nature, Exerting An Unwearied Power, Forms, Opens, And Gives Scent To Every Flower; Spreads The Fresh Verdure Of The Field, And Leads The Dancing Naiads Through The Dewy Meads.

Detested Sport, That Owes Its Pleasures To Another's Pain.

Is Base In Kind, And Born To Be A Slave.

Lights Of The World, And Stars Of Human Race.