Which makes me by th' industrious priz'd,
But by the indolent despis'd;
Bold and alert I meet the foe,
In all engagements valour show;
And if he proves too proud to yield,
One falls before we quit the field:
But tho' with these perfections great
I am endu'd—such is my fate;
They seize and to a stake me tie,
And bastinade me till I die.