1804.
PURE emanation of the honest soul,
Dear to my heart, manly Sincerity !
Dissimulation shrinks,—a coward foul,
Before thy noble art detesting eye.
Thou scorn'st the wretch who acts a double part,
Obsequious, servile, flatt'ring to betray,
With smiling face that veils a ranc'rous heart,
Like sunny morning of tempestuous day.
Thou spurn'st the sophist, with his guilty lore,
Whom int'rest prompts to weave the specious snare;
In independence rich, thou own'st a store
Of conscious worth, which changelings never share.
And crush Deceit, vile monster, reptile low.