All that the heart inspires which scorns to wear
A chain—’tis Love of Country! This the power
That levels all distinctions—’midst despair
Upraising prostrate nations to a tower,—
The flame that kindles men to Gods in peril’s hour!
II.
Who’s noble? He that bears a scutcheon? He
Whose lineage can be traced to mailéd Knights,
That with the Bastard came from Normandy?
He that in lacqueys and in hounds delights?