The vermin that beset her path!
Go, throng each other’s drawing-rooms,
Ye idols of a petty clique;
Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes,
And make your penny trumpets squeak;
Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds
Of learning from a nobler time,
And oil each other’s little heads
With mutual flattery’s golden slime;
And when the topmost height ye gain,