Forget the Fights of Stand, and Flights of Run:
No more let Ombre’s Play inspire thy Vein,
Nor strow with Captive Kings the † Velvet Plain;
| Omit awhile the Silver Peal to ring, Nor talk dulcissant, nor mellifluous sing, Nor hang suspended, nor adherent cling. |
But haste to mount Immortal Envy’s Throne,
To crush all Merit, that disputes thy own;
For thou wert born to damp each rising Name,
And hang, like Mildews, on the Growth of Fame;
Fame’s fairest Blossoms let thy Rancour blast,
Bane of the modern Laurel, like the past;