Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish or may fade, A breath can make them, as a breath has made;1 But a bold peasantry, their countrys pride, When once destroyd, can never be supplied.
Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began. Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And even his failings leand to Virtues side.
And as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledgd offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reprovd each dull delay, Allurd to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Cest un verre qui luit, Quun souffle peut détruire, et quun souffle a produit (It is a shining glass, which a breath may destroy, and which a breath has produced).De Caux (comparing the world to his hour-glass). [back]