245 
Not always with aspiring aim 
The plant thou dost despise, 
Seeks out the forest-king, — ’t will claim 
From trees of meaner growth and name 
The wish’d-for help to rise: 
Thus, he who boasts he ne’er has bow’d 
To kings — oft basely courts the crowd. 
Then when thou seest the misletoe 
Hang with its bunches green, 
On hawthorn or on wilding’s bough, 
Ere thou condenm’st it pause lest thou 
Hast like delinquent been. 
Far olf are courts, and crowns, and kings, 
But men may rise by meaner things. 
Believe me, Freedom ne’er did mate 
With dark ambitious crew; 
She shuns “ the rebel’s noisy hate,” 
Not less than “ tyrant’s sceptred state; ” 
Yet honour yields where due. 
Submiss not servile, — firm not proud, — 
She worships neither king nor crowd. 
n 
