Who, when the weaker Man is driv’n about
And Soul and Body hurt, insulting shout;
When the elated Victor stares around,
His Ears are tickled with th’ applauding sound;
[While] the poor Wretch who sobs upon the Earth
Hears the unfeeling Rabble’s mad’ning Mirth.
But Joseph, patient and with patience strong,
Felt not the Insult, nor perceiv’d it long. 210
Warm’d in the war, the clamour he disdain’d,
And half the Victory by his Temper gain’d.