Permits harsh truth his errors to disprove;
While he remains, to wrangle and to jar
Is friendly tournament, not fatal war;
Love in his play will borrow arms of hate,
Anger and rage, upbraiding and debate;
And by his power the desperate weapons thrown,
Become as safe and pleasant as his own;
But left by him, their natures they assume,
90
And fatal, in their poisoning force, become.