Nor feels content until he sees his victim's hated face
Behind a wall of rock and steel in garments of disgrace.
Then he will raise his dainty hands and loud applaud the law
That can protect such beings, who live without a flaw.
He has no pity for the weak, who thro' temptation fall,
But freely spends his time and means the guileless to enthrall.
He heaps his mighty wrath and scorn on every evil done,
And speaks in tones of pure disgust of poverty's pale son.
But if you bid him look within and study his own heart,
He has a task herculean—'tis such a tiny part!