To feed her young, and make them try the wing,
And with their tender notes attempt to sing:
Meanwhile, the fowler spreads his secret snare,
And renders vain the tuneful mother's care.
Britannia's bold adventurer of late
The foaming ocean plow'd with equal fate.
Goodness is greatness in its utmost height,
And power a curse, if not a friend to right:
To conquer is to make dissension cease,
That man may serve the King of kings in peace.