The seed ye sow, another reaps;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The robes ye weave, another read more

The seed ye sow, another reaps;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The robes ye weave, another wears;
The arms ye forge, another bears.

They had their lean books with the fat of others' works.

They had their lean books with the fat of others' works.

To copy others is necessary, but to copy oneself is pathetic

To copy others is necessary, but to copy oneself is pathetic

Take the whole range of imaginative literature, and we are all
wholesale borrowers. In every matter that relates to read more

Take the whole range of imaginative literature, and we are all
wholesale borrowers. In every matter that relates to invention,
to use, or beauty or form, we are borrowers.

It has come to be practically a sort of rule in literature, that
a man, having once shown himself read more

It has come to be practically a sort of rule in literature, that
a man, having once shown himself capable of original writing, is
entitled thenceforth to steal from the writings of others at
discretion.

Because they commonly make use of treasure found in books, as of
other treasure belonging to the dead and read more

Because they commonly make use of treasure found in books, as of
other treasure belonging to the dead and hidden underground; for
they dispose of both with great secrecy, defacing the shape and
image of the one as much as of the other.

The bees pillage the flowers here and there but they make honey
of them which is all their own; read more

The bees pillage the flowers here and there but they make honey
of them which is all their own; it is no longer thyme or
marjolaine: so the pieces borrowed from others he will transform
and mix up into a work all his own.
[Fr., Les abeilles pillotent deca dela les fleurs; mais elles en
font aprez le miel, qui est tout leur; ce n'est plus thym, ny
marjolaine: ainsi les pieces empruntees d'aultruy, il les
transformera et confondra pour en faire un ouvrage tout sien.]

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How read more

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How here he sipp'd, how there he plunder'd snug,
And suck'd all o'er like an industrious bug.

Perish those who said our good things before we did.
[Lat., Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerent.]

Perish those who said our good things before we did.
[Lat., Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerent.]