Where hapless Penury keeps the door.
Drummond! thine audience yet recall,
Recall the young, the gay, the vain;
And ere thy tottering fabric fall,
Sound forth the deeply moral strain.
For never, sure, could bard or sage,
Howe’er inspired, more clearly shew,
That all upon this transient stage
Is folly, vanity, or woe.
Bid them at once be warned and taught—