English poem
Dr. Swift
Must I commend against my conscience, Such stupid blasphemy and nonsense; To such a subject tune my lyre, And sing like one of Milton's choir, Where devils to a vale retreat, And call the laws of Wisdom, Fate; Lament upon their hapless fall, That Force free Virtue should enthrall? Or shall the charms of Wealth and Power Make me pollute the Muses' bower?