VII.

Then grieve not, thou, to whom th' indulgent Muse Vouchsafes a portion of celestial fire; Nor blame the partial Fates, if they refuse The imperial banquet, and the rich attire: Know thine own worth, and reverence the lyre. Wilt thou debase the heart which God refined? No; let thy heaven-taught soul to heaven aspire, To fancy, freedom, harmony, resign'd; Ambition's grovelling crew for ever left behind.