204 
May read a wholesome lesson,—Are not they 
As soon forgot when wealth doth pass away ? 
Do not their flattering pai’asites desert 
The drooping stem ? — 
How long in soitow will the courtly crowd 
Hover round them ? 
Are they not all forgotten in the hour 
Of dark dishonour—like my garish flower? 
Oh ! bid them learn that beauty, riches, state. 
And noble birth 
Are but choice accidents that do befall 
A few on earth— 
And bid them less haught and conceited be. 
Who have drawn prizes in this lottery. 
