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Would statesmen condescend to view the past,—
A land of upstarts is too weak to last:
Like starry orbs, perplex'd in their career,
Each man will jostle on another's sphere;
Respectful order, and spontaneous hands
To ply the engine, and prepare the lands,—
The genial blessings of the isle will fade,
And spuming knowledge spurn the humble trade: