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 scriblers, covetous of praise,
Think slander can transplant the bays.
Beauties and bards have equal pride,
With both all rivals are decry'd.
Who praises  eyes and feature,
Must call her sister, aukward creature;
For the kind flatt'ry's sure to charm,
When we some other nymph disarm.