Charles Churchill

With that malignant envy which turns pale,
And sickens, even if a friend prevail.

With that malignant envy which turns pale,
And sickens, even if a friend prevail.

Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air.

Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air.

Though by whim, envy, or resentment led,
They damn those authors whom they never read.

Though by whim, envy, or resentment led,
They damn those authors whom they never read.

Who all in raptures their own works rehearse,
And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.

Who all in raptures their own works rehearse,
And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.

Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends,
He hurts me most who lavishly commends.

Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends,
He hurts me most who lavishly commends.