Pride

Of all the causes which conspire to blind

Man's wavering judgment, and mislead the mind,

What the frail brain with stubborn bias rules,

Is pride, the constant vice of clowns and fools.

Whatever worth Nature has in short supply,

She furnishes with ample pride nearby;

For as with bodies, likewise in souls, we find

What lacks in blood and spirits, puffed with wind;

Pride, where wit falters, steps in to our defence,

And fills up all the gaping void of sense!

When right reason clears that shroud away,

Truth descends on us with undeniable day;

Trust not yourself; in knowing your defects, 

Seek both the friend's appraise—and that of foes’ detects.