Who with thy frauds heaven’s patience tire
To make thy heap a little higher,
And, lest death thank thee, in thy will
Hast tax’d the undertaker’s bill.
[XVI.] PHÆDRUS, ON HIS FABLES.
What certain envious hearts intend
I very clearly comprehend,
Let them dissemble e’er so much.—
When they perceive the master’s touch,
And find ’tis likely to endure,