Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/178



ALLAS, observing Stella's wit Was more than for her sex was fit, And that her beauty, soon or late, Might breed confusion in the state, In high concern for human kind, Fix'd honour In her infant mind. But (not in wranglings to engage With such a stupid vicious age) If honour I would here define, It answers faith in things divine. As natural life the body warms, And, scholars teach, the soul informs; So honour animates the whole, And is the spirit of the soul. Those numerous virtues, which the tribe Of tedious moralists describe, And by such various titles call, True honour comprehends them all. Let melancholy rule supreme, Choler preside, or blood, or phlegm, It makes no difference in the case, Nor is complexion honour's place. But, lest we should for honour take, The drunken quarrels of a rake; Or think it seated in a scar, Or on a proud triumphal car; Or