Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/225

Rh Criers and clerks, and all the savage crew Which wretched man at his own charge undo? If after prospect of all this, the ass Should find the voice he had in Æsop's days; Then, doctor, then, casting his eyes around On human fools, which everywhere abound, Content with thistles, from all envy free, And shaking his grave head, no doubt he'd cry, 'Good faith, man is a beast as much as we!'

granted, that nobility in man Is no wild fluttering notion of the brain, Where he, descended of an ancient race, Which a long train of numerous worthies grace, By virtue's rules guiding his steady course, Traces the steps of his bright ancestors. But yet I can't endure an haughty ass, Debauched with luxury and slothful ease, Who, besides empty titles of high birth, Has no pretence to anything of worth, Should proudly wear the fame which others sought, And boast of honour which himself ne'er got. I grant, the acts which his forefathers did Have furnished matter for old Hollinshed, For which their scutcheon, by the conqueror graced, Still bears a lion rampant for its crest; But what does this vain mass of glory boot To be the branch of such a noble root,