Sailors override the wave,While guilty poverty, more fear'd than vice.Bids us crime and suffering brave,And shuns the ascent of virtue's precipice?Let the Capitolian fane,The favour'd goal of yon vociferous crowd,Aye, or let the nearest mainReceive our gold, our jewels rich and proud:Slay we thus the cause of crime,If yet we would repent and choose the good:Ours the task to take in timeThis baleful lust, and crush it in the bud.Ours to mould our weakling sonsTo nobler sentiment and manlier deed:Now the noble's first-born shunsThe perilous chase, nor learns to sit his steed:Set him to the unlawful dice,Or Grecian hoop, how skilfully he plays!While his sire, mature in vice,A friend, a partner, or a guest betrays,