Poor Worms, They Hiss At

Great Honours Are Great Burdens, But On Whom They Are Cast With Envy, He Doth Bear Two Loads.

That Praises Are Without Reason Lavished On The Dead, And That The Honours Due Only To Are Paid To Antiquity, Is A Complaint Likely To Be Always Continued By Those Who, Being Able To Add Nothing To Truth, Hope For Eminence From The Heresies Of Paradox; Or Those Who, Being Forced By Disappointment Upon Consolatory Expedients, Are Willing To Hope From Posterity What The Present Age Refuses, And Flatter Themselves That The Regard Which Is Yet Denied By Envy Will Be At Last Bestowed By Time.

Weigh The Meaning And Look Not At The Words.

Whom Hatred Frights, Let Him Not Dream Of Sovereignty.

It Is The Highest Of Earthly Honors To Be Descended From The Great And Good. They Alone Cry Out Against A Noble Ancestry Who Have None Of Their Own.