YOU injur'd few, who have just cause to mourn,
I you console, who from true love are torn!
This sketch, I hope it will no man offend,
Ev'n though the person's name were fairly kenn'd.
Here what I know, I modestly may tell;
He never tries mens doubts for to expell:
He seldom fails to join a party scheme,
And raise disputes to hurt his neighbour's fame.
Pride and ambition his whole views confine;
The road to peace he neither cares nor minds:
His anxious care is honour to secure,
Regards no man, can he excel in pow'r.
There's few who may in his friendship confide;
The poor, by him, are neither fed nor clad.
By him no genius e'er was brought to light;
For him they'll be unknown till endless night.
High stormy passions harbour in his breast;
He takes delight his neighbours to molest:
Each altercation irritates his mind,
Destroys his feelings, makes his judgement blind.
He seldom meets with harmony and peace;
He can't enjoy his friends with love and ease:
There's scarce an object his affection warms;
His virtue, weak, has lost its sacred charms.
He joins in prejudice, and gives a sneer;
Yet scarcely gains a friend by love or fear:
Each doubt perplexes his ill 'stablish'd mind;
If he have grace 'tis of the weakest kind.


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