Where nothing is examined, weighed;
But as ’tis rumoured, so believed; 50
Where every freedom is betrayed,
And every goodness taxed or grieved.
But what we’re born for, we must bear:
Our frail condition it is such,
That what to all may happen here, 55
If’t chance to me, I must not grutch,
Else I my state should much mistake,
To harbour a divided thought