Yet shall the tear of Pity flow,
Yet shall her hand exalt the low;
Shall pull aspiring Merit down,
And deck the base with Honor's crown;
Intent to lower, not fond to raise,
Hatred her friendship, spite her praise.
Or when some all-respected name,
High-borne upon the tide of Fame,
In Glory's pomp resistless draws
A nation breathless in applause;
The Beldame loud exalts her voice,
And bids a gladden'd world rejoice;
Yet then dissembling Art will blend
Th' unwilling censure of a Friend:
Lavish in praise she pours her soul,
But one Exception damns the whole.