A Rich Rogue Nowadays Is

I Hate The Man Who Builds His Name On Ruins Of Another's Fame. Thus Prudes, By Characters O'erthrown, Imagine That They Raise Their Own. Thus Scribblers, Covetous Of Praise, Think Slander Can Transplant The Bays.

From Kings To Cobblers 'tis The Same; Bad Servants Wound Their Masters' Fame.

A Wolf Eats Sheep But Now And Then; Ten Thousands Are Devour'd By Men. An Open Foe May Prove A Curse, But A Pretend Friend Is Worse.

I Cannot Raise My Worth Too High; Of What Vast Consequence Am I! "not Of The Importance You Suppose," Replies A Flea Upon His Nose; "be Humble, Learn Thyself To Scan; Know, Pride Was Never Made For Man.

Beasts Kill For Hunger, Men For Pay.