Thomas Pringle - The Hottentot lyrics

Not altogether wicked; but so weak That greater villains made of him their tool: Not void of talent; yet so much a fool As honour by dishonest means to seek: Proud to the humble; to the haughty meek; In flattery servile; insolent in rule; Keen for his own; for others' interest cool; Hate in his heart; and smiles upon his cheek:-- This man, with abject meanness join'd to pride, Was yet a pleasant fellow in his day; For all unseemly traits he well could hide, Whene'er he mingled with the great and gay; But he is buried now--and, when he died, No one seemed sorry that he was away.