Page:The Hind and the Panther - Dryden (1687).djvu/148

But, by reverse of Fortune chac'd away,
His Gifts no longer than their Author stay:
He shakes the Dust against th' ungrateful race,
And leaves the stench of Ordures in the place.
Oft has he flatter'd, and blasphem'd the same,
For in his Rage, he spares no Sov'rains name:
The Hero, and the Tyrant change their style
By the same measure that they frown or smile;
When well receiv'd by hospitable Foes,
The kindness he returns, is to expose:
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$For Courtesies, tho' undeserv'd and great,
No gratitude in Fellon-minds beget,
As tribute to his Wit, the churl receives the treat.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$His praise of Foes is venemously Nice,
So touch'd, it turns a Vertue to a Vice:
A Greek, and bountiful forewarns us twice.
Sev'n Sacraments he wisely do's disown,
Because he knows Confession stands for one;
Where Sins to sacred silence are convey'd,
And not for Fear, or Love, to be betray'd:

But