Thence spring ambitious thoughts, there doubtings die;

270

From thence we trace the horrors of a War,

Chaotic counsel, ministerial jar;

This makes a gambling Lord, a Patriot vain,

The Soldier's fury, and the Lover's pain;

Fills Bedlam's wards with souls of ærial mould;

This makes the Madman, this supplies the Scold;

Here rules the one grand Passion in extreme,

A love of lucre, or a love of fame;