Classic Poem

Purg'd be this land from all the reptile race

Purg'd be this land from all the reptile race,
Whose manners poison, and whose modes disgrace!
Ill suits with Freedom's sons their boasted Ton,
The light Cotillion, or more light Allemande.
Say will not you, your country's darling pride,
With whom the Virtues, Graces, are allied;
Say will not you, like guardian-angels, stand,
The warm defenders of your native land;
Say will not you, like Rome's immortal Fair,
To Public-virtue sacrifice your share;
The idol Fashion from his altars throw,
And spurn the fripp'ry gaudes of Britain's foe?
Illustrious train! in titled honours high,
Th' alluring beacons of each humbler eye,
Lead the bright van, begin the noble race!
Such acts of glory will your lineage grace.English