John Gay

The rising blushes, which her cheek o'er-spread,
Are opening roses in the lily's bed.

The rising blushes, which her cheek o'er-spread,
Are opening roses in the lily's bed.

Nor love, not honour, wealth nor pow'r,
Can give the heart a cheerful hour
When health is read more

Nor love, not honour, wealth nor pow'r,
Can give the heart a cheerful hour
When health is lost. Be timely wise;
With health all taste of pleasure flies.

Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise.
For envy is a kind of praise.

Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise.
For envy is a kind of praise.

Lash'd into Latin by the tingling rod.

Lash'd into Latin by the tingling rod.

I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.

I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.