An exercise in spite is doomed to shame,

A slap upon the face shall win no war;

Though words of scorn a school child may maim,

‘Tis better here sagacious men ignore.

Outrageous slights are not but vanity,

Purveyors so to elevate their worth;

To be embroiled in such absurdity

Is but, at best, a jester courting mirth.

It is a frailty of the human form

That passion oft prevails on common sense,

So when the blood of simpletons wax warm—

A measured jest is oft the best defense.

For what to gain from mindless spats with fools,

The winner such bedecked by spit and drool.