That tickles little minds to mirth effuse;
Of grief approaching, the portentous sign!
The house of laughter makes a house of woe.
A man triumphant is a monstrous sight;
A man dejected is a sight as mean.
What cause for triumph, where such ills abound? 760
What for dejection, where presides a Power,
Who call’d us into being to be bless’d?
So grieve, as conscious, grief may rise to joy; 763
So joy, as conscious, joy to grief may fall.