Dwell'st thou not rather, like the prince of hell,
In Pandemonium full of ugly fiends?
Dissimulation, Discord, Malice fell,
Reckless Ambition, that right onward wends,
Tho' his wild march o'erthrow both fame and friends,
And virtue and his country; crooked Guile,
Obliquely creeping to his treach'rous ends,
And Flatt'ry, curs'd assassin, who the while
He holds the murd'rous knife, can fawn, and kiss, and smile.