Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,
I see the lords of human kind pass by;
Intent on high designs, a thoughtful band,
By forms unfashion’d, fresh from Nature’s hand, 330
Fierce in their native hardiness of soul,
True to imagin’d right, above control;
While e’en the peasant boasts these rights to scan,
And learns to venerate himself as man.
Thine, Freedom, thine the blessings pictur’d here, 335
Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear;