II |
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II
Ill-minded man! why scourge thy kind Who bow`d so low the knee? By gazing on thyself grown blind, Thou taught`st the rest to see. With might unquestion`d, -- power to save, -- Thine only gift hath been the grave, To those that worshipp`d thee; Nor till thy fall could mortals guess Ambition`s less than littleness! |