Thy latest Foe suggested thus:
Like Thee I am a Pow'r Immortal; therefore
To Thee dare speak. How can'st Thou favor partial
Those Poets who write little? Vast and Great
Is what I Love: The far extended Ocean
To a small Riv'let I prefer.
Spurn'd  with His Foot; and thus the God:
, the head-long Current of ,
River, copious runs, but Muddy;
And carries forward with his stupid Force
Polluting Dirt; His Torrent still augmenting,
His Wave still more defil'd: mean while the Nymphs
, Sacred and Recluse to ,
Studious to have their Off'rings well receiv'd,
And fit for Heav'nly Use, from little Urns
Pour Streams select, and Purity of Waters.