Read HORACE, BOOK IV, ODE IX ADDRESSED TO ARCHBISHOP KING of The Poems of Jonathan Swift‚ D.D.(Volume I of 2), free online book, by Jonathan Swift, on ReadCentral.com.

Virtue conceal’d within our breast
Is inactivity at best: 
But never shall the Muse endure
To let your virtues lie obscure;
Or suffer Envy to conceal
Your labours for the public weal. 
Within your breast all wisdom lies,
Either to govern or advise;
Your steady soul preserves her frame,
In good and evil times, the same. 
Pale Avarice and lurking Fraud,
Stand in your sacred presence awed;
Your hand alone from gold abstains,
Which drags the slavish world in chains. 
  Him for a happy man I own,
Whose fortune is not overgrown;
And happy he who wisely knows
To use the gifts that Heaven bestows;
Or, if it please the powers divine,
Can suffer want and not repine. 
The man who infamy to shun
Into the arms of death would run;
That man is ready to defend,
With life, his country or his friend.