From Pole to Pole, and slav'd about the World;
While the reward of all his pains and cares,
Ends in that despicable thing, his Heir.
There a vain Fop mortgages all his Land
To buy that gaudy Play-thing, a Command;
To ride a Cock-horse, wear a Scarf at's ——
And play the Pudding in a May-pole Farce.
Here one, whom God to make a Fool thought fit,
In spight of Providence, will be a Wit:
But wanting strength t'uphold his ill made choice,