We heedless scribbling fools sustain.
A thousand more from various views,
The gliding meteor swift pursues.
The Patriot toils, in pensive mood,
For honour and Britannia’s good.
The Courtier deems his Sov’reign’s smile
Would all his anxious cares beguile.
O Janet, shun the coxing tribe,
Who barter virtue for a bribe.
The Coxcomb’s care we well can guess;