Anonymous ID: 38df21 April 7, 2020, 9:21 a.m. No.8713776   🗄️.is 🔗kun

>>8713753

 

The Bookful Blockhead, ignorantly read,

With Loads of Learned Lumber in his Head,

With his own Tongue still edifies his Ears,

And always List'ning to Himself appears.

Name a new Play, and he's the Poet's Friend,

Nay show'd his Faults—but when wou'd Poets mend?

No Place so Sacred from such Fops is barr'd,

Nor is Paul's Church more safe than Paul's Church-yard:

Nay, fly to Altars; there they'll talk you dead;

For Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread.