His Polar Star being one which rather ranges,
And not the fixed—he knew the way to wheedle:
So vile he 'scaped the doom which oft avenges;
And being fluent (save indeed when fee'd ill),
He lied with such a fervour of intention—
There was no doubt he earned his laureate pension.
LXXXI.
But he had genius,—when a turncoat has it,
The Vates irritabilis[192] takes care
That without notice few full moons shall pass it;