B —, tho' blest with learning, sense and wit,
Yet prides himself in never shewing it.
Safe in his cell, he shuns the staring crowd,
And inward shines, like Sol behind a cloud.
For fame let fops to distant regions roam,
Lo! here's the man —
That unseen wight, whom all men wish to see,
Illustrious grown — by mere obscurity.