Thomas Paine (1737–1809)

WARRIOR, farewell: eccentrically brave,

Above all kings, and yet of gold the slave:

In words a very wit, in deeds less wise,

Forever restless, yet could never rise—

At least no higher than could meet the ground:

If strong the blow, the greater the rebound.

Of all men jealous, yet afraid of none;

In crowds forever—ever still alone;

At once the pride and bubble of a throng,

Pursuing right, and yet forever wrong.

By nature form’d to play the monarch’s part—

At best a true republican at heart:

But to cast up the aggregated sum—

Above all monarchs, and below all scum.

Unsettled virtues, with great vices mix’d,

Like the wide welkin where few stars are fix’d.

Rest, restless chief, thy sword has taken rust,

Peace to thy manes—honour to thy dust.