Void of all honor, avaricious, rash, The daring tribe compound their boasted trash Tincture of syrup, lotion, drop, or pill; All tempt the sick to trust the lying bill.
Soldiers in arms! Defenders of our soil! Who from destruction save us; who from spoil Protect the sons of peace, who traffic or who toil; Would I could duly praise you, that each deed Your foe's might honor, and your friends might read.
Men famed for wit, of dangerous talents vain, Treat those of common parts with proud disdain; The powers that wisdom would, improving, hide, They blaze abroad, with inconsid'rate pride; While yet but mere probationers for fame, They seize the honor they should then disclaim: Honor so hurried to the light must fade, The lasting laurels nourish in the shade.
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