AND SPOKE WORSE AGAINST ME .

Lie , Philo, untouch'd on my peaceable shelf;
 Nor take it amiss, that so little I heed thee:
I've no envy to thee, and some love to myself:
 Then why should I answer; since first I must read thee?

Drunk with Helicon's waters and double-brew'd bub,
 Be a linguist, a poet, a critic, a wag;
To the solid delight of thy well-judging club,
 To the damage alone of thy bookseller Brag.

Pursue me with satire: what harm is there in't?
 But from all viva voce reflection forbear:
There can be no danger from what thou shalt print:
 There may be a little from what thou may'st swear.