The varied notes still new appear,
And sweet transition charms the ear:
Whilst thou, puff’d up with self-conceit,
And idle thoughts of being great,
Nor freedom canst thyself allow,
Nor give to others what is due;
But pedant-like, in pride, elate
(With notions, as thy prison, strait),
Think’st thou alone can urge the strain,
Thy boasted learning then, how vain!