Still had Labour been blest with Content,

    Still Competence happy had been,

  Nor Indigence utter'd a plaint,

    Had Avarice spar'd but the Green.

                   17

  Not Avarice itself could be mov'd

    By desire of a morsel so small:

  It could not be lucre he lov'd;

    But to rob the poor folk of their all.

  He in wantonness ope'd his wide jaws,

    As a Shark may disport with the Fry;

  Or a Lion, when licking his paws,

    May wantonly snap at a Fly.

                   18

  Could there live such an envious Man,

    Who endur'd not the halcyon scene?

  When the infantine Peasantry ran,

    And roll'd on the daisy-deck'd Green:

  Ah! sure 'twas fell Envy's despite,

    Lest Indigence tasted of Bliss,

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