The Vulgar Boil, The Learned Roast, An

Unthought-of Frailties Cheat Us In The Wise.

Where London's Column, Pointing At The Skies, Like A Tall Bully, Lifts The Head, And Lies.

In Lazy Apathy Let Stoics Boast, Their Virtue Fix'd: 't Is Fix'd As In A Frost; Contracted All, Retiring To The Breast; But Strength Of Mind Is Exercise, Not Rest.

But See How Oft Ambition's Aims Are Cross'd, And Chiefs Contend 'til All The Prize Is Lost!

Who Pants For Glory, Finds But Short Repose; A Breath Revives Him, Or A Breath O'erthrows.