As they were wounded, so they wish to wound,
And strive to deal their own Damnation round.
To blast young Merit all their Powers they bring,
And set their little Souls upon the thing.
Yet still the wretched Fool comes off a Loser,
Dulness, like Conscience, is its own Accuser.
And Tyrant Envy can at once impart
Sneers to the Face and Vultures to the Heart.
Then from this Subject which tonight we chuse,
At least confess it is an honest Muse.