One Or Two Of These Scoundrel Statesmen

Saint George And The Dragon!-bonny Saint George For Merry England!-the Castle Is Won!

Profan'd The God-given Strength, And Marr'd The Lofty Line.

Still From The Sire The Son Shall Hear Of The Stern Strife, And Carnage Drear, Of Flodden's Fatal Field, When Shiver'd Was Fair Scotland's Spear, And Broken Was Her Shield!

We Are Like The Herb Which Flourisheth Most When It Is Most Trampled On.

He Who Indulges His Sense In Any Excesses Renders Himself Obnoxious To His Own Reason; And, To Gratify The Brute In Him, Displeases The Man, And Sets His Two Natures At Variance.