Whom fancy chills with visionary fears,
Or bends to servile tameness with conceits
Of shame, of evil, or of base defect,
Fantastic and delusive. Here the slave215
Who droops abash'd when sullen pomp surveys
His humbler habit: here the trembling wretch
Unnerv'd and frose with terror's icy bolts,
Spent in weak wailings, drown'd in shameful tears,
At every dream of danger: here subdued220
By frontless laughter and the hardy scorn
Of old, unfeeling vice, the abject soul
Who blushing half resigns the candid praise
Of temperance and honour; half disowns
A freeman's hatred of tyrannic pride;225
And hears with sickly smiles the venal mouth
With foulest licence mock the patriot's name.
Last of the motley bands[1] on whom the pow'r
Of gay derision bends her hostile aim,
Is that where shameful ignorance presides.230
Beneath her sordid banners, lo! they march,
Like blind and lame. Whate'er their doubtful hands
Attempt, confusion straight appears behind,
And troubles all the work. Thro' many a maze,
Perplex'd they struggle, changing every path,235
O'erturning every purpose; then at last
- ↑ Last of the, &c.] Ridicule from the ignorance of such things as our circumstances require us to know.
