Let Genius then despair to make thee great; Nor flatter Station: what is station high? 'Tis a proud mendicant; it boasts, and begs; It begs an alms of homage from the throng, 289 And oft the throng denies its charity. Monarchs and ministers, are awful names; Whoever wear them, challenge our devoir. Religion, public order, both exact External homage, and a supple knee, To beings pompously set up, to serve The meanest slave: all more is merit's due, Her sacred and inviolable right; Nor ever paid the monarch, but the man. Our hearts ne'er bow but to superior worth; Nor ever fail of their allegiance there. 300 Fools, indeed, drop the man in their account, And vote the mantle into majesty. Let the small savage boast his silver fur; His royal robe unborrow'd, and unbought, His own, descending fairly from his sires. Shall man be proud to wear his livery, And souls in ermine scorn a soul without? Can place or lessen us, or aggrandize? Pigmies are pigmies still, though perch'd on Alps; And pyramids are pyramids in vales. 310 Each man makes his own stature, builds himself: Virtue alone outbuilds the pyramids: Her monuments shall last, when Egypt's fall. Of these sure truths dost thou demand the cause? The cause is lodged in immortality. Hear, and assent. Thy bosom burns for power; What station charms thee? I'll install thee there; 'Tis thine. And art thou greater than before? Then thou before wast something less than man. Has thy new post betray'd thee into pride? 320 That treacherous pride betrays thy dignity; That pride defames humanity, and calls The being mean, which staffs or strings can raise. 323 That pride, like hooded hawks, in darkness soars, From blindness bold, and towering to the skies. 'Tis born of ignorance, which knows not man: An angel's second; nor his second, long. A Nero quitting his imperial throne, And courting glory from the tinkling string, But faintly shadows an immortal soul, 330 With empire's self, to pride, or rapture, fired. If nobler motives minister no cure, Even vanity forbids thee to be vain. High worth is elevated place: 'tis more; It makes the post stand candidate for thee; Makes more than monarchs, makes an honest man; Though no exchequer it commands, 'tis wealth; And though it wears no riband, 'tis renown; Renown, that would not quit thee, though disgraced, Nor leave thee pendent on a master's smile. 340 Other ambition Nature interdicts; Nature proclaims it most absurd in man, By pointing at his origin, and end; Milk, and a swathe, at first, his whole demand; His whole domain, at last, a turf, or stone; To whom, between, a world may seem too small. Souls truly great dart forward on the wing