Classic Poem

E LIZA bids me boldly try
To pluck the laurel bough,
And with unfading garlands deck
My unambitious brow.

When friendship's voice thus soothing calls
Thro' vanity to stray,
Tho' conscious of the rash attempt,
I readily obey.

With steps by her injunctions wing'd,
I seek th' immortal grove:
Less prompted by desire of fame,
Than fond complying love.

Th' offended laurel seem'd to shrink,
As trembling I drew near:
The vocal leaves these sounds convey'd
To my attentive ear:

" Rash spoiler, cease; nor let thy hand
" My sacred branch profane:
" These honours to the wise belong,
" Not to the weak and vain. "