If my mind's independence one day I'm to sell,
If with Vice in her pestilent haunts I'm to dwell —
Then in mercy, I pray thee, O Time !
Ere that day of disgrace and dishonour comes on,
Let my life be cut short! — better, better be gone
Than live here on the wages of crime!

But if yet I'm to kindle a flame in the soul
Of the noble and free — if my voice can console,
In the day of despondency, some —
If I'm destined to plead in the poor man's defence —
If my writings can force from the national sense
An enactment of joy for his home:
Time! retard thy departure! and linger awhile —
Let my " songs " still awake of my mother the smile —
Of my sister the joy, as she sings.
But, O G LORY and V IRTUE ! your care I engage;
When I'm old — when my head shall be silvered with age,
Come and shelter my brow with your wings!