(Whene’er or Phœbus shone with kindlier beams,
Or luckier chance the borrow’d boots supply’d)
Had panted oft beneath my goring steel
In vain they plead or threat: all-powerful ALE
Excuses new supplies, and each descends
With joyless pace, and debt-despairing looks:
E’en Spacey with indignant brow retires,
Fiercest of duns! and conquered quits the field.
Why did the Gods such various blessings pour
On hapless mortals, from their grateful hands