 | A Collection of Original Poems |  |
171
The CHARACTER of ---
Hic niger est—hunc, tu, Romane, caveto.
Hor.
Hor.
An inveterate heart, fraught with malice and spleen,
With a face that betrays what he harbours within;
With a smile that discloses no gleam of good-nature;
With Shylock impress'd upon ev'ry feature;
With too little sense to dispose of his gall,
Where with some shew of reason the venom might fall;
Too vain of the wit, which he never possess'd,
Not to launch the dull weapon at every breast;
With envy the toad ever prompt at his ear,
To direct him when mildness and virtue appear,
“Here level the point—let it penetrate here.”
Overlooking affronts with a real intent,
Still spying them out, where they never were meant;
Too proud to forgive an offence, and too mean
To resent, when a shadow of danger is seen:
Still affecting to rule, with no title to pow'r,
Tho' pre-eminence does but expose him the more;
Yet a dupe to the sycophant, only caress'd
By the wretch, like himself, whom all others detest;
With the lust of a satyr, and the craft of a Jew,
With Change-alley wisdom, and wit from a stew.
With a face that betrays what he harbours within;
With a smile that discloses no gleam of good-nature;
With Shylock impress'd upon ev'ry feature;
With too little sense to dispose of his gall,
Where with some shew of reason the venom might fall;
Too vain of the wit, which he never possess'd,
Not to launch the dull weapon at every breast;
With envy the toad ever prompt at his ear,
To direct him when mildness and virtue appear,
“Here level the point—let it penetrate here.”
Overlooking affronts with a real intent,
Still spying them out, where they never were meant;
172
To resent, when a shadow of danger is seen:
Still affecting to rule, with no title to pow'r,
Tho' pre-eminence does but expose him the more;
Yet a dupe to the sycophant, only caress'd
By the wretch, like himself, whom all others detest;
With the lust of a satyr, and the craft of a Jew,
With Change-alley wisdom, and wit from a stew.
Oh! Eve, had but Satan this figure put on,
This figure so nearly resembling his own,
He had then been detected, his scheme had been cross'd;
And the blessings of Eden had never been lost.
This figure so nearly resembling his own,
He had then been detected, his scheme had been cross'd;
And the blessings of Eden had never been lost.
| A Collection of Original Poems | |