And, such wast thou, sagacious moralist, Whose lessons shine not only in thy works, Thy life was moral: and may I condemn The man of searching mind, who systems weigh'd In judgment's nicer scale, and yielded not His weight of faith, when he durst not believe? Nor less with grace, and ease, and dignity Chasten'd, the historian shines, tho' not bestarr'd With fancies luminous: — yet does the page Spread a mild lustre round; nor shall the speck That lightly passes o'er, eclipse its beams.
