Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills [Byron.
Twelve bottles ranged upon the board, [Gay.
And the world’s cold neglect, which surest kills, [Hunt.
He watched, he served, he cheered his lord. [Spencer.
O heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save, [Campbell.
Poor human ruins, tottering o’er the grave! [Young.
By that dread name, we wave the sword on high, [Campbell.
When in the valley of Jehoshaphat, [Dryden.
For whom contending kings are proud to die— [Falconer.
Die, and endow a college or a cat! [Pope.