O grief, O spite, to see poor Virtue scorned

O grief, O spite, to see poor Virtue scorned,
Truth far exiled, False Art loved, Vice adored,
Free Justice sold, worst causes best adorned,
Right cast by Power, Pity in vain implored!
O who in such an age could wish to live,
When none can have or hold, but such as give?

O times, O men to Nature rebels grown,
Poor in desert, in name rich, proud of shame,
Wise but in ill! Your styles are not your own
Though dearly bought; Honour is honest fame.
Old stories, only, goodness now contain,
And the true wisdom that is just and plain.