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On 06 Sep 2005 22:41:23 GMT, wrote:
>BREATHES there the man with soul so dead,
>Who never to himself hath said,
>This is my own, my native land!
>Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,
>As home his footsteps he hath turn'd
>From wandering on a foreign strand!
>If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
>For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
>High though his titles, proud his name,
>Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
>Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
>The wretch, concentred all in self,
>Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
>And, doubly dying, shall go down
>To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
>Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
>
>Sir Walter Scott
"Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel." -- Samuel Johnson
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