The cankering rust corrodes the brightest steel;
The moth frets out your garment, and the worm
Eats its slow way into the solid oak:
But Envy, of all evil things the worst,
The same to-day, to-morrow, and for ever,
Saps and consumes the heart in which it works.
Cumberland.
Envy’s a sharper spur than pay,
And, unprovok’d,’t will court the fray.
*****