Such thy Ambition of obliging was,
Thou seem'dst corrupted with the very Power to please.
Only to let thee gratifie,
At once did bribe and pay thy Courtesie.
Thy Kindness by Acceptance might be bought,
It for no other Wages sought,
But would its own be thought.
No Suiters went unsatisfy'd away,
But left thee more unsatisfy'd than they.
Brave Titus ! thou mightst here thy true Portraicture find,
And view thy Rival in a private mind.
Thou heretofore deserv'dst such Praise,
When Acts of Goodness did compute thy days,
Measur'd not by the Sun 's, but thine own kinder Rays.
Thou thoughtst each hour out of Life's Journal lost,
Which could not some fresh Favor boast,
And reckon'dst Bounties thy best Clepsydras .