How shall I feel, when Sol resigns his light
To this proud splendid goddess of the night!
Then when her aukward guests in measure beat
The crowded floors, which groan beneath their feet!
What thoughts in solitude shall then possess
My tortur'd mind, or soften my distress!
Not all that envious malice can suggest
Will sooth the tumults of my raging breast.
(For Envy's lost amid the numerous train,
And hisses with her hundred snakes in vain)
Though with contempt each despicable soul
Singly I view, — I must revere the whole.