承认吧，亲爱的莱留斯!虔诚，公正，明智，当你想到——有时你肯定会想到——上天对你的美德所施的恩赐，你心中会升起一些自满，而你却轻蔑地看待可怜的人类，软弱，任性，肉欲，激情，盲目。在这些错误中，你是完美无瑕的，(月亮从周围的黑暗中显露光彩)也请允许我，一颗小小的伴星，虽然在更遥远的地方闪烁;我们诗人常把小事与大事作比较。我羡慕你的脚步，羡慕我不能追求的。世人必须把我的勇气和我的正直等同起来(这可不是普通的名声)。而你，伟大的主，是为更高贵的景物而生;你年轻的时候给安娜的宫廷做了装饰。让牛津承认吧，让加泰隆尼亚告诉你们，你们智慧的牺牲品是什么;让庸俗的誓言或利益束缚吧，这些束缚永远不能束缚勇敢的心灵。 Recorded be that memorable hour, When, to elude exasperated pow'r With blushless front you durst your friend betray, Advise the whole confed'racy to stay, While with sly courage you run brisk away. By a deserted court with joy receiv'd, Your projects all admir'd, your oaths believ'd; Some trust obtain'd, of which good use he made, To gain a pardon where you first betray'd. But what is pardon to th'aspiring breast? You should have been first minister at least: Failing of that, forsaken and depress'd, Sure any soul but yours had sought for rest! And mourn'd in shades, far from the public eye, Successless fraud, and useless infamy. And here, my lord! let all mankind admire The efforts bold of unexhausted fire; You stand the champion of the people's cause, And bid the mob reform defective laws. Oh! was your pow'r, like your intention good, Your native land would stream with civic blood. I own these glorious schemes I view with pain; My little mischiefs to myself seem mean, Such ills are humble though my heart is great, All I can do is flatter, lie, and cheat; Yet I may say 'tis plain that you preside O'er all my morals, and 'tis much my pride To tread with steps unequal where you guide. My first subscribers I have first defam'd, And when detected, never was asham'd; Rais'd all the storms I could in private life, Whisper'd the husband to reform the wife; Outwitted Lintot in his very trade, And charity with obloquy repaid. Yet while you preach in prose, I scold in rhymes, Against th'injustice of flagitious times. You, learned doctor of the public stage, Give gilded poison to corrupt the age; Your poor toad-eater I, around me scatter My scurril jests, and gaping crowds bespatter. This may seem envy to the formal fools Who talk of virtue's bounds and honour's rules; We, who with piercing eyes look nature through, We know that all is right in all we do. Reason's erroneous -- honest instinct right -- Monkeys were made to grin, and fleas to bite. Using the spite by the Creator given, We only tread the path that's mark'd by Heaven. And sure with justice 'tis that we exclaim, Such wrongs must e'en your modesty inflame; While blockheads, court-rewards and honours share, You, poet, patriot, and philosopher, No bills in pockets, nor no garter wear. When I see smoking on a booby's board Fat ortolans and pye of Perigord, Myself am mov'd to high poetic rage (The Homer and the Horace of the age), Puppies who have the insolence to dine With smiling beauties, and with sparkling wine; While I retire, plagu'd with an empty purse, Eat brocoli, and kiss my ancient nurse. But had we flourish'd when stern Harry reign'd, Our good designs had been but ill explained; The axe had cut your solid reas'nings short, I, in the porter's lodge, been scourg'd at court. To better times kind Heav'n reserv'd our birth. Happy for you such coxcombs are on earth! Mean spirits seek their villainy to hide; We show our venom'd souls with nobler pride, And in bold strokes have all man kind defy'd, Pass'd o'er the bounds that keep mankind in awe, And laugh'd at justice, liberty, and law. While our admirers stare with dumb surprise, Treason and scandal we monopolise. Yet this remains our most peculiar boast, You 'scape the block, and I the whipping-post.