BLANDISHMENT

Flatter him then let vanity have its way,
For though it is for you 'tis for himself he'll pray.
For those cajoled do seldom in fond return,
Offer the same that the flatterer may discern.
The buttercups all fight in clusters among the weeds,
Doing for themselves what each other also needs.
Hiding the purpose that their actions yet reveal,
For who in being vain can ambition conceal.
Ah blandishments! Though they make you blush,
Curtail not the desire to repeat that self same flush,
Though the flatterer in flattering seeks to flatter most,
He who rises first to announce the toast.
For he who flatters, would flattery reject,
Lest the lie his own untruth reflect.