When men of infamy to grandeur soar, They light a torch to show their shame the more.
Truth never was indebted to a lie
Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile.
The man that blushes is not quite a brute.
A man I knew who lived upon a smile, And well it fed him; he look'd plump and fair, While rankest venom foam'd through every vein.
Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. That only, and that amply this performs.