Or spent in search of epithets his days,
But from his lengthen’d labours hoped to gain
Some present profit or some future praise?
Though folly’s self inspire each dead-born strain,
Still flattery prompts some blockhead to commend;
Perhaps e’en Timon hath not toil’d in vain,
Perhaps e’en Timon hath as dull a friend.
For thee, whose muse with many an uncouth rhyme
Dost in these lines neglected worth bewail,
If chance (unknowing how to kill the time)