Praise, once afforded, now—they say not why, 140
They dare not say it—fickle men deny;
That buzz of fame a new Minerva cheers,
Which our deserted queen no longer hears.
Old, but not wise, forsaken, not resign’d,
She gives to honours past her feeble mind;
Back to her former state her fancy moves,
And lives on past applause, that still she loves;
Yet holds in scorn the fame no more in view, }
And flies the glory that would not pursue }