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On CRASSUS.
 
 
 
 
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235

On CRASSUS.

Dull magisterial Fool, forbear
To spit thy pointless Venom here;
To more exalted Glories born,
Thy mean Indignities I scorn;
Secure of Fame, I boast my Lays,
While Pope, while Pack, or Congreve praise;
Let these but favour what I write,
And damn'd, like Thee, be all thy spite:
No more shall Duty force my Lays,
To gild thy Vanities with praise;
If e'er again my Colours strive,
To make thy Painter's Daubings live;
May Fate, and ev'ry Muse combine,
To blast me, and the vile Design;
In short, may Heav'n, and all agree,
To make me such an Ass as Thee.