Let not proud office mock their useful toil,
Their votes, though silent, and career obscure;
Nor grandeur mock, with a disdainful smile,
The “ignorant impatience” of the poor[24].
The boast of place, of interest, and of power,
Of all that worth can claim, or gold can buy,
Must yield alike, in dread division’s hour,
To Country Gentlemen’s majority.
Nor you, ye Whigs, impute to these the blame,
If some faint cheer its puny homage pays,