[d] On Backs of Letters was his Homer wrote,
All your Affairs disclos’d to save a Groat.
He valu’d not to whom he gave Offence;
He sav’d his Paper, tho’ at your Expence.
But shall a low-born Wretch the best traduce,
And call it Poetry, because Abuse?
The Heav’n-born Muse, by Truth and Justice sway’d,
To false Aspersions ne’er vouchsafes her Aid.
When unprovok’d, not vengeful Wasps molest,
Nor dart their Stings, when undisturb’d their Nest.