If we may judge of matter by the mind,

Emasculated to the marrow It
Hath but two objects, how to serve, and bind,

Deeming the chain it wears even men may fit,

Eutropius of its many masters,[9]—blind

To worth as freedom, wisdom as to wit,

Fearless—because no feeling dwells in ice,

Its very courage stagnates to a vice.[10]