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But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send, Save me, oh, save me, from the candid friend!
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In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch Is offering too little and asking too much. The French are with equal advantage content, So we clap on Dutch bottoms just twenty per cent.
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We are hated throughout Europe and that hate must be cured by fear.
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I called the New World into existence, to redress the balance of the Old.
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Indecision and delays are the parents of failure.
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Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, sir.
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And finds, with keen, discriminating sight,Black ’s not so black,-nor white so very white.
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A steady patriot of the world alone, The friend of every country but his own.