Genius is of no country.
Genius is of no country; her pure ray Spreads all abroad, as general as the day.
To copy faults is want of sense.
Be England what she will, With all her faults she is my country still.
Who often, but without success, have prayed for apt Alliteration's artful aid.
Quick-circulating slanders mirth afford; and reputation bleeds in every word.