All Pride Is Willing Pride.

I Am A Foe To Tyrants, And My Country's Friend.

Now No Way Can I Stray; Save Back To England, All The World's My Way.

If After Every Tempest Come Such Calms, May The Winds Blow Till They Have Waken'd Death!

Were All The Letters Sun, I Could Not See One.

Thy Best Of Rest Is Sleep, And That Thou Oft Provok'st; Yet Grossly Fear'st Thy Death, Which Is No More.