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lirik lagu george rylands - epistle to dr. arbuthnot (lines 309- 333)

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yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings
this painted child of dirt that stinks and stings;
whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys
yet wit ne’er tastes, and beauty ne’r enjoys
so well~bred spaniels civilly delight
in mumbling of the game they dare not bite
eternal smiles his emptiness betray
as shallow streams run dimpling all the way
whether in florid impotence he speaks
and, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks;
or at the ear of eve, familiar toad
half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad
in puns, or politics, or tales, or lies
or spite, or sm~t, or rhymes, or blasphemies
his wit all see~saw, between that and this
now high, now low, now master up, now miss
and he himself one vile antithesis
amphibious thing! that acting either part
the trifling head, or the corrupted heart
fop at the toilet, flatt’rer at the board
now trips a lady, and now struts a lord
eve’s tempter thus the rabbins have express’d
a cherub’s face, a reptile all the rest;
beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust
wit that can creep, and pride that l!cks the dust


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