He that doth guide a nation’s star, should dwell
High o’er the clouds, in regal solitude,
Sufficient to himself.
Raim. Yet, on the summit,
When with her bright wings glory shadows thee,
Forget not him who coldly sleeps beneath,
Yet might have soar’d as high!
Pro. No, fear thou not!
Thou’lt be remember’d long. The canker-worm
O’ th’ heart is ne’er forgotten.