It shows our spirit, or it proves our strength.
Thou say’st, ’tis needful: is it therefore right?
Howe’er, I grant it some small sign of grace,
To strain at an excuse: And would’st thou then
Escape that cruel need? Thou may’st, with ease;
Think no post needful that demands a knave. 370
When late our civil helm was shifting hands,
So Pulteney thought: think better, if you can.
But this, how rare! the public path of life
Is dirty;—yet, allow that dirt its due,