When wrinkling with a sneer his trunk,
Friend, quoth the Elephant, you're drunk;
E'en keep your money, and be wise;
Leave man on man to criticise,
For that you ne'er can want a pen
Among the senseless sons of men,
They unprovok'd will court the fray,
Envy's a sharper spur than pay,
No author ever spar'd a brother,
Wits are game-cocks to one another.