cruel  only drains
The moral  ebbing Veins,
By Study worn, and slack with Age;
How dull, how thoughtless is his Rage!
Heighten'd Revenge He should have took:
He should have burnt his Tutor's Book;
And long have reign'd supream in Vice.
One nobler Wretch can only rise:
'Tis He whose Fury shall deface
The Stoick's Image in this Piece:
For while unhurt, divine ,
Thy Work and  remain:
He still has Body, still has Soul,
And lives and speaks, restor'd and whole.