In sense to a wondrous degree;
Your old-fashion'd faith does but fetter the mind,
And it 's _wrong_ not to seek to be free."
Says the sage Politician, "Your natural share
Of talents would raise you much higher,
Than thus to crawl on in your present low sphere,
And it 's _wrong_ in you not to aspire."


III.

Says the Man of the World, "Your dull stoic life
Is surely deserving of blame?
You have children to care for, as well as a wife,
And it 's _wrong_ not to lay up for them."
Says the fat Gormandiser, "To eat and to drink
Is the true _summum bonum_ of man:
Life is nothing without it, whate'er you may think,
And it 's _wrong_ not to live while you can."


IV.

Says the new-made Divine, "Your old modes we reject,
Nor give ourselves trouble about them:
It is manners and dress that procure us respect,
And it 's _wrong_ to look for it without them."
Says the grave peevish Saint, in a fit of the spleen,
"Ah! me, but your manners are vile:
A parson that 's blythe is a shame to be seen,