While this roars out,—A party tool!
That, sneering cries,—A party fool!
These are hard words, and grating tones;
But what are words to broken bones?
And broken bones he'll soon bewail,
For there's no fence against a flail.
Oh hapless wight!—ah, luckless fray,
Down drops this pageant of the day.
Thus, he most raised above his fellows,
By one rude blast from Fortune's bellows,