Dulness! Whose Good Old Cause I Yet

Is Pride, The Never-failing Vice Of Fools.

Unthought-of Frailties Cheat Us In The Wise.

Court-virtues Bear, Like Gems, The Highest Rate, Born Where Heav'n Influence Scarce Can Penetrate. In Life's Low Vale, The Soil The Virtues Like, They Please As Beauties, Here As Wonders Strike.

And Little Eagles Wave Their Wings In Gold.

Whoever Thinks A Faultless Piece To See, Thinks What Ne'er Was, Nor Is, Nor E'er Shall Be.