Of coldly keeping up the Stoic mask
O'ertaxed him at the last; it fell, and lo!
Another face was bared to friend and foe.
Scarce to his foes will generous judgment lean—
Foes mean as merciless, and false as mean,
Their poisoned pens, which even softening Death,
Which hate should hush and stifle slander's breath,
May not deprive of venom, prodding still
The unresponsive corse they helped to kill,
Is an ignoble sight. Turn, turn away!