I Am Monarch Of All I Survey,

No Man Can Be A Patriot On An Empty Stomach.

He Finds His Fellow Guilty Of A Skin Not Color'd Like His Own, And Having Pow'r T' Enforce The Wrong, For Such A Worthy Cause Dooms And Devotes Him As His Lawful Prey.

All Affectation; 'tis My Perfect Scorn; Object Of My Implacable Disgust.

Whoever Keeps An Open Ear For Tattlers Will Be Sure To Hear The Trumpet Of Contention.

They Fix Attention, Heedless Of Your Pain, With Oaths Like Rivets Forced Into The Brain; And E'en When Sober Truth Prevails Throughout, They Swear It, Till Affirmance Breeds A Doubt.