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]