contents | previous | next Thro' a long line of glorious ancestry, Percys and Seymours, Britain's boasted sons, Who trust the honors of their race to thee: 'Tis not thy splendid domes, where science loves To touch the canvas, and the bust to raise; Thy rich domains, fair fields, and spreading groves; 'Tis not all these the Muse delights to praise! In birth and wealth and honours, great thou art! But nobler, in thy independent mind; And in that liberal hand and feeling heart Given thee by Heaven a blessing to mankind! Unworthy oft may titled fortune be; A soul like thine is true Nobility! |
