Whate'er's our choice we still with pride prefer,
And all who deviate, vainly think must err:
Clodio in books and abstract notions lost,
Sees none but knaves and fools in honor's post;
Whilst Syphax, fond on fortune's sea to sail,
And boldly drive before the flatt'ring gale,
(Forward her dang'rous ocean to explore,)
Condemns as cowards those who make the shore.
Not so my friend impartial, — man he views
Useful in what he shuns as what pursues;
Sees different turns to gen'ral good conspire,
The hero's passion and the poet's fire;
Each figure plac'd in nature's wise design,
With true proportion and exactest line:
Sees lights and shades unite in due degree,
And form the whole with fairest symmetry.