A Dream

Tortur'd with pain, as late I sleepless lay, Oppress'd with care, impatient for the day, Just at the dawn, a gentle slumber came, And to my wand'ring fancy brought this dream. Methought my pains were hush'd, and I was laid In earth's cold lap, among the silent dead; Prop'd on my arm, I view'd, with vast surprize, This last retreat of all the great and wise; Where fool, with knave, in friendly consort lies. Whilst thus I gaz'd, behold a wretch appear'd, In beggar's garb, with loathsome filth besmear'd, His carcase, Lazar like, was crusted o'er With odious leprosy, one horrid sore; This wretch approach'd, and laid him by my side, Good Heaven!—how great a shock to mortal pride; Enrag'd I cry'd—"friend, keep the distance due "To us of rank, from beggars such as you; "Observe some manners, and do me the grace, "To move far off, and quit your betters place." "And what art thou? audacious (he reply'd!) "That thus dost shew such reliques of thy pride? "What tho' in life the harder lot was mine, "Of ease and plenty every blessing thine, "Yet here, distinctions cease; a beggars dust "Shall rise with kings—more happy if more just; "Till then we both one common mass shall join, "And spite of scorn, my ashes mix with thine."