Wisdom, you say, is what you must desire,
The only charming blessing you admire,
Therefore be bold and fit yourself to bear
Many a taunt, and patiently to hear
The grinning foolish rable laugh aloud
At you, the sport and pastime of the crowd,
While in like jeers they vent their filthy spleen;
'Whence all this gravity, this careless mien!
And whence of late is this pretender come,
This new proficient, this musheroom,
This young philosopher with half a beard?
Of him, 'till now, we have no mention heard:
Whence all this supercilious pride of late?
This stiff behaviour, this affected gait?'
This will perhaps be said, but be not you
Sullen nor bend a supercilious brow,
Lest thus you prove their vile reproaches true,
Which are but words of course, the excrement,
The usual malice, which alike thy vent
Upon the guilty and the innocent.
But firmly still to what seems best adhere,
As if by heav'n's commands you order'd were
To keep that post, not to be driv'n from thence
By force, much less a scurrilous offence.
Maintain this maxim, and you soon will grow,
The praise and wonder of your scoffing foe:
Forc'd to confess his faults, he'll court you more
Than he reproach'd, or laugh'd at you before.
But if his mock'ry makes you tamely yield,
And quit your noble station in the field,
You merit laughter on a double score,
First for attempting then for giving o'er.