The sons reflect no more the father’s face: The host with kindness greets his guest no more, And friends and brethren love not as of yore. Reckless of heaven’s revenge, the sons behold The hoary parents wax too swiftly old: And impious point the keen dishonouring tongue With hard reproofs and bitter mockeries hung: Nor grateful in declining age repay The nurturing fondness of their better day. [51]Now man’s right hand is law: for spoil they wait, And lay their mutual cities desolate: Unhonour’d he, by whom his oath is fear’d, Nor are the good beloved, the just revered. With favour graced the evil-doer stands, Nor curbs with shame nor equity his hands: With crooked slanders wounds the virtuous man, And stamps with perjury what hate began. Lo! ill-rejoicing Envy, wing’d with lies, Scattering calumnious rumours as she flies, The steps of miserable men pursue With haggard aspect, blasting to the view. Till those fair forms in snowy raiment bright [52]Leave the broad earth and heaven-ward soar from sight: Justice and Modesty from mortals driven, Rise to th’ immortal family of heaven: Dread sorrows to forsaken man remain; No cure of ills: no remedy of pain. [53]Now unto kings I frame the fabling song, However wisdom unto kings belong. A stooping hawk, crook-talon’d, from the vale Bore in his pounce [54]a neck-streak’d nightingale, And snatch’d among the clouds: beneath the stroke This piteous shriek’d, and that imperious spoke: “Wretch! why these screams? a stronger holds thee now: Where’er I shape my course a captive thou, Maugre thy song, must company my way: I rend my banquet or I loose my prey. Senseless is he who dares with power contend: Defeat, rebuke, despair shall be his end.” The swift hawk spake, with wings spread wide in air; But thou to justice cleave, and wrong forbear. Wrong, if he yield to its abhorr’d controul, Shall pierce like iron in the poor man’s soul: Wrong weighs the rich man’s conscience to the dust, When his foot stumbles on the way unjust: Far diff’rent is the path; a path of light, That guides the feet to equitable right. The end of righteousness, enduring long, Exceeds the short prosperity of wrong. [55]The fool by suffering his experience buys; The penalty of folly makes him wise. With crooked judgments, lo! the oath’s dread God Avenging runs, and tracks them where they trod: Rough are the ways of Justice as the sea; Dragg’d to and fro by men’s corrupt decree: Bribe-pamper’d men! whose hands perverting draw The right aside, and warp the wrested law. Though, while corruption on their sentence waits, They thrust pale Justice from their haughty gates; Invisible their steps the virgin treads, And musters evils o’er their sinful heads. She with the dark of air her form arrays