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by the load of life, the weary mind Surveys the general toil of human kind, With cool submission joins the labouring train, And social sorrow loses half its pain: Our anxious bard without complaint may share This bustling season's epidemic care; Like Caesar's pilot dignified by Fate, Tost in one common storm with all the great; Distrest alike the statesman and the wit, When one a Borough courts, and one the Pit. The busy candidates for power and fame Have hopes, and fears, and wishes, just the same; Disabled both to combat or to fly, Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply. Uncheck'd on both loud rabbles vent their rage, As mongrels bay the lion in a cage. Th' offended burgess hoards his angry tale, For that blest year when all that vote may rail; Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss, Till that glad night when all that hate may hiss.