The same wild fury acts the will
In different ways, with different skill.
A starving Kite, upon a bar
(Worn out with long fatigues of war),
Whose pointed claws, and hooked bill,
Shew’d his profession was to kill,
Thus grieving spoke in doleful strain:
(Your heart will pity and disdain)—
“How blind is everything on earth!
And how injurious to my worth!