English Satires
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Chapter 110 110

For me, who, wandering with pedestrian Muses,

Contend not with you on the winged steed,

I wish your fate may yield ye, when she chooses,

The fame you envy and the skill you need;

[246] And recollect a poet nothing loses

In giving to his brethren their full meed

Of merit, and complaint of present days

Is not the certain path to

            
            

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