Fools admire, but men of sense approve.
Did some more sober critics come abroad? If wrong, I smil'd; if right, I kiss'd the rod.
And you, my Critics! in the chequer'd shade, Admire new light thro' holes yourselves have made.
I lose my patience, and I own it too, When works are censur'd, not as bad but new; While if our Elders break all reason's laws, These fools demand not pardon but Applause.
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss.