England, A Happy Land We

With Various Readings Stored His Empty Skull, Learn'd Without Sense, And Venerably Dull.

A Servile Race Who, In Mere Want Of Fault, All Merit Place; Who Blind Obedience Pay To Ancient Schools, Bigots To Greece, And Slaves To Musty Rules.

If Honor Calls, Where'er She Points The Way The Sons Of Honor Follow, And Obey.

Though Folly, Robed In Purple, Shines, Though Vice Exhausts Peruvian Mines, Yet Shall They Tremble And Turn Pale When Satire Wields Her Mighty Flail.

Genius Is Independent Of Situation.