I am unskill'd in speech: my tongue is slow

The graceful courtesies of life to pay;

To deck kind meanings up in trim array,

Keeping the mind's soft tone: words such as flow

From Complaisance, when she alone inspires!

And Caution, with a care that never tires,

Marshals each tribe of thoughts in such a way

That all are ready for their needful task,

The moment the occasion comes to ask,

All prompt to hear, to answer and obey;

When mine, undisciplin'd, their cause betray,

By coward falterings, or rebellious zeal!—

And Art, though subtle, though sublime thy sway,

I doubt if thou canst rule us, when we feel!