With Rome’s rich spoils and Truth’s exalted views;
Fir’d them with transports of a nobler kind,
And bade them slight all females—but the Muse.
Full many a lark, high tow’ring to the sky
Unheard, unheeded, greets th’ approach of light;
Full many a star, unseen by mortal eye,
With twinkling lustre glimmers thro’ the night.
Some future Herring, that with dauntless breast
Rebellion’s torrent shall, like him oppose;
Some mute, some thoughtless Hardwicke here may rest,