Think! what a mob of little men
Are crawling just within our ken,
Like mites upon a cheese!—
Pshaw!—how the foolish sight rebukes
Ambitious thoughts!—can there be Dukes
Of Gloster such as these!—
XIII.
Oh! what is glory?—what is fame?
Hark to the little mob's acclaim,
'Tis nothing but a hum!—