William Congreve

“ Let ambition fire thy mind,
thou wert born o’er men to reign;
Not to follow flocks design’d;
scorn thy crook and leave the plain,
Crowns I’ll throw beneath thy feet
thou on necks of kings shall tread;
Joys incircling joys shall meet,
which way e'er thy fancy lead.
Let not spoils of empire fright;
toils of empire pleasure are;
Thou shalt not only know delight,
all the joy but not the care. ”