Classic Poem

What tho' my name must bring reproach
Whether in waggon or in coach,
And virtue wou'd in prison wait
Sooner than I shou'd ope the gate,
Tho' ev'n the peasant, far from college,
Disdains me with his humble knowledge,
Yet luxury calls me from my cell
Sometimes, with well-drest folks to dwell;
And ev'n in company I venture
Where other vagrants dare not enter!
I'm low and vulgar, vile and mean,
And yet with wings, like bats I'm seen,
And fly with wond'rous speed they say
But always from the light of day —
Well may I shun its beams with care
Most sure to find destruction there!
Sometimes transparent you may view me
And almost see the daylight thro' me;
But oft'ner in a mist I'm found
And work like miners under ground! —
Sometimes, when hunted I escape,
But always in a diff'rent shape.
Twou'd puzzle even the wise no doubt,
To find my tricks and windings out —
They say that some are white indeed,
And fair and harmless, of my breed,
But he who trusts them, will have cause
To curse them for their harpy claws.
Harmless! — as soon may hornets be —
There only dang'rous in degree:
Tho' fashion plays with them in sport
They'll never thrive in honour's court.

The eagle whose celestial eye
Delights to view the beams on high,
If once my murkey brood appear
Howe'er disguis'd — he views them clear —
Darting, indignant from his height
He takes his bold victorious flight,
Springs on our nest, in spite of care,
And plants his noble talons there.