To the Memory of my Dear Friend, Mr. Charles Morwent: A Pindarique - Part 16
Vain Stoicks who disclaim all Human Sense,
And own no Passions to resent Offence,
May pass it by with unconcern'd Neglect,
And Vertue on those Principles erect,
Where 'tis not a perfection, but Defect.
Let these themselves in a dull Patience please,
Which their own Statues may possess,
And they themselves when Carcasses.
Thou only couldst to that high pitch arrive,
To court Abuses, that thou mightst forgive:
Wrongs thus in thy Esteem seem'd Courtesie,
And thou the first was e'er oblig'd by Injury.
And own no Passions to resent Offence,
May pass it by with unconcern'd Neglect,
And Vertue on those Principles erect,
Where 'tis not a perfection, but Defect.
Let these themselves in a dull Patience please,
Which their own Statues may possess,
And they themselves when Carcasses.
Thou only couldst to that high pitch arrive,
To court Abuses, that thou mightst forgive:
Wrongs thus in thy Esteem seem'd Courtesie,
And thou the first was e'er oblig'd by Injury.
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