Praise from an enemy smells of craft.
Boast not of what thou would'st have done, but do.
Where all life dies death lives.
Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream. Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild.
And the earth self-balanced on her centre hung.
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.