WHEN Dryden's fool, 'unknowing what he sought,' His hours in whistling spent, 'for want of thought,' This guiltless oaf his vacancy of sense Supplied, and amply too, by innocence; Did modern swains, possess'd of Cymon's powers, In Cymon's manner waste their leisure hours, The offended guests would not, with blushing, see These fair green walks disgraced by infamy. Severe the fate of modern fools, alas! When vice and folly mark them as they pass. Like noxious reptiles o'er the whiten'd wall, The filth they leave still points out where they crawl. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POEMS ON THE SLAVE TRADE: 6 by ROBERT SOUTHEY THE RUINES OF TIME by EDMUND SPENSER MUSIC IN CAMP by JOHN REUBEN THOMPSON POPULAR BALLAD: NEVER FORGET YOUR PARENTS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A PRAYER FOR LOVE by ELSA BARKER SECTION GANG: NIGHT by NORMAN BOLKER LIKE A SICK CHILD by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE BACKGROUND GROUP by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON LINES ON A PICTURE OF A GIRL IN THE ATTITUDE OF A PRAYER BY THE ARTIST GRUSE by THOMAS CAMPBELL |