In commitment, we dash the hopes of a thousand potential selves.
A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
For what were all these country patriots born? To hunt, and vote, and raise the price of corn?
In England the only homage which they pay to Virtue - is hypocrisy.
And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!
Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave, Then some leap'd overboard with fearful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave.