To be a second Shakespeare, and inroll’d
Among the list of Poets, and perchance
Some monarch’s fav’rite, counsellor, and friend,
In more retired hours—Or the fond theme
Of after ages—Soul inspiring thought!
Ambition!—Witchcraft!—Sorcery divine!
To write—perchance to cringe—aye, there’s the rub!
For who could brook to do an action mean,
Unworthy man, and basely stoop to praise
Some letter’d bookworm, or pedantic fool;