New, distant Scenes of endless Science rise: So pleas'd at first, the towring Alps we try.

Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.

Remembrance and reflection how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.

Where London's column, pointing at the skies, Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies.

Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, and fills up all the mighty void of sense.

Whatever is, is right.

The race by vigour, not by vaunts, is won.