“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”