Should he seek to find them false, his honours die with theirs:
An offering is welcome for its own sake, set aside the giver,
And praise is precious to a man, though uttered by the parrot or the mocking-bird.
The world is full of fools; and sycophancy liveth on the foolish:
So he groweth great and rich, that fawning supple parasite.
Sometimes he boweth like a reed, cringing to the pompousness of pride,
Sometimes he strutteth as a gallant, pampering the fickleness of vanity;
I have known him listen with the humble, enacting silent marveller,
To hear some purse-proud dunce expose his poverty of mind;
I have heard him wrangle with the obstinate, vowing that he will not be convinced,