“Oh! why was I born with a different face?
why was I not born like the rest of my race?
when I look,each one starts! when I speak, I offend;
then Im silent & passive & lose every friend.
Then my verse I dishonour, my pictures despise,
my person degrade & my temper chastise;
and the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame;
all my talents I bury, and dead is my fame.
Im either too low or too highly prized;
when elate I m envy'd, when meek Im despis'd”
