Sharpsight.

"In answer to your just desire,
Permit me fairly to enquire,
Which to my ledger is transmitted,
For what your qualities are fitted?
And, in good faith, I wish to know,
What you have done, and what can do?
Nay, to whose word I may refer
For your good name and character.
Such is essential to the case,
Such are the first steps to a place,
Of whate'er kind that place may be,
Whether of high or low degree;
Without them no access to station,
No character, no situation.
—What you assert, you say is true,
I'm sure, my friend, I wish so too:
For what you ask, as you describe,
Is ask'd by all the serving tribe:
'Tis that to which they all pretend,
But those I never can commend
In honour to my own good name,
And to this room's establish'd fame,
But what the rigid truth may claim.
}
Though as you look this place around,
But common folk are to be found:
Coachmen who sit without a whip;
Footmen, without a call to skip;
Gardeners who have lost their spade,
And Journeymen without a trade;
Clerks whose pens have long been idle;
With grooms quite dull, who ask a bridle;
Cooks who exclaim for roast and boil'd,
And nurs'ry-maids without a child;
Young, sprightly girls who long to clamber
From drawing-rooms to upper chamber,
Ready the drudg'ry to assail
Of scrubbing-brush, and mop and pail;
Stout porters who for places tarry,
Whose shoulders ache for loads to carry;
But character they must maintain,
Or here they come, and pay in vain.
In short, were I to count them o'er,
I could name twenty kinds or more,
Who patient and impatient wait
About this busy, crowded gate.
—But you might higher claimants see
Within this crowded registry,
Who do not at the desk appear,
Nor e'er are seen in person here;
But they are charged a larger fee,
Both for success and secrecy.
Thus you must see how much depends,
To gain your object and your ends,
That you should truly let me know
What you have done,—what you can do;
And I, once more, beg to refer
To your good name and character."