Of Life at Court

Who number one
Keeps in the van,
And gently can
His hoop drive on
And fawn and fan,
And every man
Counts dust and bran--
Is now the cock to crow to Pan.

Who has in sight
To live upright,
Keep honour bright,
And be true quite--
In vain shall fight
And lose his might,
Shall meet with slight
And scorn and spite,
And serve the rest, unhappy wight.

By flattery’s rod
There’s many a lad
Great wealth has had,
And praises glad;
Down in the mud
He’ll others tread
And honour wed:
So goes the world heels over head!

Whatever man
Has no such plan,
From court must run;
Such never won
But scoff and ban.
Who flatter can,
And sting and tan--
He is at court the best o’ the clan!