Once I beheld thee far less trim and gay;
Ragged, disjointed, and to worms a prey;
The safe retreat of every lurking mouse;
Derided, shun'd; the lumber of my house!
Thy robe, how chang'd from what it was before!
Thy velvet robe, which pleas'd my sires of yore!
Tis thus capricious Fortune wheels us round;
Aloft we mount — then tumble to the ground.
Yet grateful  my constancy I prov'd;
I knew thy worth; my friend in rags I lov'd!
I lov'd thee,  nor like a courtier, spurn'd
My benefactor, when the tide was turn'd.