Some fancy shirt-pin that hath deck’d the breast,
On plaited cambric, starch’d in spruce array;
Some ring, memento of a friend at rest,
Some seal, or snuff box, of a better day.
The servile tongues of borrowers to command,
The tributary dues of boxes to evade,
To spread the paper’d plunder in the hand,
And read their consequence in homage paid,
Their luck forbids; nor circumscribes alone
To them its evils, but its range extends;