With much to excite, there’s little to exalt;
Nothing that speaks to all men and all times;
A sort of varnish over every fault;
A kind of common-place, even in their crimes;
Factitious passions—Wit without much salt—
A want of that true nature which sublimes
Whate’er it shows with Truth; a smooth monotony
Of character, in those at least who have got any.