Praise to placeless proud ability,
Let the prudent muse disclaim;
And sing the Statesman-all civility-
Whom moderate talents raise to fame.
He, no random projects urging,
Make us wild alarms to feel;
With moderate measures, gently purging
Ills that prey on Britain's weal.
CHORUS.
Gently purging,
Gently purging,
Gently purging Britain's weal.[1]
Addington, with measured motion,
Keep the tenor of thy way;
To glory yield no rash devotion,
Led by luring lights astray;
Splendid talents are deceiving;
Tend to councils much too bold;
Moderate men we prize, believing,
All that glitters is not gold.
GRAND CHORUS.
All that Glisters,
All that Glisters,
All that Glisters is not gold![2]
