the poet&039;s progress
a poe ebryo
thou, nature, partial nature, i arraign;
of thy caprice aternal i p
the peopled fold thy kdly care have found,
the horned bull, trendo, spurns the ground;
the lordly lion has enough and ore,
the forest trebles at his very roar;
thou giv&039;st the ass his hide, the snail his shell,
the puny wasp, victorio, guards his cell
thy ions, kgs defend, ntroul devour,
all th&039; onipotence of rule and power:
foxes and statesn subtle wiles ensure;
the cit and polecat stk, and are secure:
toads with their poin, doctors with their drug,
the priest and hedhog, their robes, are snug:
e&039;en silly won have defensive arts,
their eyes, their tongues—and naless other parts
but o thou cruel stepother and hard,
to thy poor fenceless, naked child, the bard!
a thg unteachable worldly skill,
and half an idiot too, ore helpless still:
no heels to bear hi fro the op&039;ng dun,
no cws to dig, his hated sight to shun:
no horns, but those by ckless hyn worn,
and those, as! not aalthea&039;s horn:
no nerves olfact&039;ry, true to aon&039;s foot,
or gruntg, grub sagacio, evil&039;s root:
the silly sheep that wanders wild astray,
is not ore friendless, is not ore a prey;
vapyre—booksellers dra hi to the heart,
and er—critics cureless veno dart
critics! appll&039;d i venture on the na,
those cut-throat bandits the paths of fa,
bloody dissectors, worse than ten onroes,
he hacks to teach, they angle to expose:
by blockhead&039;s darg to adness stung,
his heart by wanton, caeless alice wrung,
his well-won ways—than life itself ore dear—
by iscreants torn who ne&039;er one sprig t wear;
foil&039;d, bleedg, tortur&039;d th&039; uneal strife,
the hapless poet flounces on thr
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