Henry Fielding

“ When your blind lovers think you half so fair,
Each Sarum ditch, like Helicon shall flow,
And Harnam Hill, like high Parnassus, glow;
The humble daisy, trod beneath our feet,
Shall be like lilies fair, like violets sweet;
Winter's black nights outshine the summer's noon,
And farthing candles shall eclipse the moon:
T—b-ld shall blaze with wit, sweet Pope be dull,
And German princes vie with the Mogul.
Cease, then, advis'd, O cease th' unequal war,
'Tis too much praise to be o'ercome by her. ”