I've read you, gentlemen, recorded.
Could not emoluments like these
Thy mind, ambitious minstrel, please?
O! be thy song for ever curst,
You've gain'd the prize by starting first.
To equal thee let me aspire,
For tho' I envy, I admire.
Ten worthies yet remain unsung,
Fit subjects for the pen or tongue
Of Homer's self, had he been living.