THOUGH in my veins the blood of monarchs flow -- Plantagenet and Tudor -- not for these With empty boast my lifted mind I please; But rather that my heart's emotions glow With the pure flame the muse's gifts bestow: Nor would it my aspiring soul appease, In rank, birth, wealth, to loll at sensual ease, And none but folly's stupid flattery know. But yet when upstart greatness turns an eye Of scorn and insult on my modest fame, And on descent's pretensions vain would try To build the honours of a nobler name, With pride defensive swelling, I exclaim, "Base one, e'en there with me thou dost not vie!" |