{ On utmost bounds of loyalty they stand,
{ And grin and whet like a Croatian band,
{ That waits impatient for the last command.
Thus outlaws open villainy maintain;
They steal not, but in squadrons scour the plain;
And if their power the passengers subdue,
The most have right, the wrong is in the few.
Such impious axioms foolishly they show,
For in some soils republics will not grow:
Our temperate isle will no extremes sustain