We must not think that all forget the state
In which they moved, and bless their humbler fate;
But all may here the waste of life retrieve,
And, ere they leave the world, its vices leave. 100
See yonder man, who walks apart, and seems
Wrapt in some fond and visionary schemes;
Who looks uneasy, as a man oppress’d
By that large copper badge upon his breast.
His painful shame, his self-tormenting pride,
Would all that’s visible in bounty hide;