“Since I cannot their pleasures share,
Others’ enjoyment I’ll prevent:
While Lok ’s a prey to discontent,
No guest the smiles of joy shall wear.
Ha! they shall soon be made to feel,
No rose is pluck’d without a thorn;
And drops of wormwood I’ll distil
Into each Asa’s drinking-horn.
“Great powers I have not; yet in need
The weakest worm hath force to wound: