XXXVIII.

Praised be all liars and all lies! Who now

Can tax my mild Muse with misanthropy?

She rings the World's "Te Deum," and her brow

Blushes for those who will not:—but to sigh

Is idle; let us like most others bow,

Kiss hands—feet—any part of Majesty,

After the good example of "Green Erin,"[580]Whose shamrock now seems rather worse for wearing.[KS]

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