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Fell Despotism sits by the red glareOf Discord's torch, kindling the flames of war.For thee then does the Muse her sweetest layPour 'mid the shrieks of war, 'mid dire dismay;For thee does Fame's obstrep'rous clarion rise,Does Praise's voice raise meanness to the skies.Are we then sunk so deep in darkest gloom,That selfish pride can virtue's garb assume?Does real greatness in false splendour live?When narrow views the futile mind deceive,When thirst of wealth, or frantic rage for fame,Lights for awhile self-interest's little flame,When legal murders swell the lists of pride;When glory's views the titled idiot guide,Then will oppression's iron influence showThe great man's comfort as the poor man's woe.Is't not enough that splendour's useless glare,Real grandeur's bane, must mock the poor man's stare;Is't not enough that luxury's varied powerMust cheat the rich parader's irksome hour,
