This bubbling gossip here of fops and fools,
Who have no care beyond the coming chance,
Rough-rubs the angry soul to arrogance
And puts puff’d wisdom out of her own rules.
True, knowledge comes on all winds, without schools,
And every folly has her saw: perchance
Some costly gem from silliest spodomance
May be unash’d; and mind has many tools.
But still, love here rains not her heav’nly dew,
Nor friendship soothes the folly-fretted sense;