Thy strains shall be our slumbering prophets' dream,
And when our Zion virgins sing their theme,
Our jubilees shall with thy verse be graced;
The song of Asaph shall for ever last.
How fierce his satire, loosed; restrained, how tame;
How tender of the offending young man's fame!
How well his worth, and brave adventures stiled;
Just to his virtues, to his error mild!
No page of thine that fears the strictest view,
But teems with just reproof, or praise, as due;