Talk of war with a Briton, he'll boldly advance
That one English soldier will beat ten of France.
Would we alter the boast from the sword to the pen,
The odds are still greater, still greater our men.
In the deep mines of science though Frenchmen may toil,
Can their strength be compared to Locke, Newton and Boyle?
Let them rally their heroes, send forth all their powers,
Their verse-men and prose-men, then match 'em with ours.
First Milton and Shakespeare, like gods in the fight,
Have put their whole drama and epic to flight;
In satires, epistles and odes would they cope,
Their numbers retreat before Dryden and Pope;
And Johnson, well-armed, like a hero of yore,
Has beat forty French and will beat forty more.