Then I conclude for peace: 'tis time to treat,
And lie like vassals at the victor's feet.
But, oh! if any ancient blood remains,
One drop of all our fathers, in our veins,
That man would I prefer before the rest,
Who dared his death with an undaunted breast;
Who comely fell by no dishonest wound,
To shun that sight, and, dying, gnawed the ground.
But, if we still have fresh recruits in store,
If our confederates can afford us more;