John Gay

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.

The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With read more

The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With golden treasures load his little thighs,
And steer his distant journey through the skies.

There is no dependence that can be sure but a dependence upon one's self

There is no dependence that can be sure but a dependence upon one's self

Envy's a sharper spur than pay:
No author ever spar'd a brother;
Wits are gamecocks to one read more

Envy's a sharper spur than pay:
No author ever spar'd a brother;
Wits are gamecocks to one another.

That Raven on yon left-hand oak
(Curse on his ill-betiding croak)
Bodes me no good.

That Raven on yon left-hand oak
(Curse on his ill-betiding croak)
Bodes me no good.