Thence spring ambitious thoughts, there doubtings die;
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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,