User:Jasonrhode

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     Yet malice never was his aim;
     He lashed the vice but spared the name.
     No individual could resent,
     Where thousands equally were meant.
     His satire points at no defect
     But what all mortals may correct;
     For he abhorred that senseless tribe
     Who call it humor when they gibe.
         o Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift, l. 459 (1731)