Classic Poem

Why makes one Blockhead's Speech so great a Noise,
In such a Town, where such least want a Voice?
Why for a Wonder shou'd its Prating go,
Where the most senceless, the most noisy grow?
Ye living Loggerheads of Court and Town,
Forbear to cry your brainless Brother down!
Your own new Likeness no more Sense will say,
Than others Mouths into his Head convey.
Sometimes, 'tis true, he'll Greek and Latin speak,
(And you to such Heads bear the greatest Pique.)
But then he's wiser, modester than you,
And never speaks, but when he's spoken to
You, to be heard, about the Town must rome,
But, like an Oracle, He keeps his Home.

Courtiers! who to this Rival Visits pay,
As to all else, to carp at what they say;
(For each new Blockhead when he comes to Town,
Has all the old ones still to cry him down.)
You, by your own Example make it plain,
Such Heads are best to bring their Owners Gain:
For, as our sage Inventor's fruitful Head,
Without this empty one, had ne'r got Bread,
So needy Wits that with ill Fortune strive,
Joyn some Court-Blockhead to their Aid, and live.