The flatterers meet with smiles
The cunning find their friends
Without I made my pilgrimage
& so met small amends
I looked on fame as merits plea
Twas spring but winter frowned on me
To cringe to menial slaves
To worship titled power
To bend the knee to knaves
The price of earthly dower
Is what I neer was taught to pay
So empty [that] Ive turned away
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