How Much A Dunce That Has Been

Unmissed But By His Dogs And By His Groom.

War's A Game, Which, Were Their Subjects Wise, Kings Would Not Play At.

I Am Monarch Of All I Survey, My Right There Is None To Dispute, From The Centre All Round To The Sea, I Am Lord Of The Fowl And The Brute.

In The Vast, And The Minute, We See The Unambiguous Footsteps Of The God, Who Gives Its Lustre To An Insect's Wing And Wheels His Throne Upon The Rolling Worlds.

Detested Sport, That Owes Its Pleasures To Another's Pain.