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The man was human through and through, His faults belong to me and you, 'Tis well if we've his good points too, And make no fuss about them.
Could we to life but call him back He would not a warm welcome lack If with us he'd foregather: How should we hang upon his chat, His anecdotes and stories pat Of rakish Earls and Ladies that Had slipped from virtue's tether!
Yet were he here in person, he Could scarcely help us more to see His age's form and pressure Than in his diary unique (You'll vainly such another seek!), He shows it with unvarnished cheek, Than Lely's colours fresher!
A sad and shameful time we own Was his: yet could the truth be known Is our age much more moral? A nineteenth-century Pepys may be Is now at work to prove that we Have very little warranty With Charles's time to quarrel!
1893

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