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The glorious president of grosser fools.
But cease, my Muse; of those or these enough,
The fools who listen, and the knaves who Scoff;
The jest profane, that mocks th' offended God,
Defies his power, and [sets] at nought his rod.
The empty Laugh, discretion's vainest foe,
From fool to fool re-echo'd to and fro;
The sly Indecency, that slowly springs
From barren wit, and halts on trembling wings: