Boast not in company of what you've done,
What battles you have fought, what hazards run;
How first at such a siege of such a town,
You scal'd the walls, and won the mural crown;
And how your skill and conduct gain'd the day,
While hosts of slaughter'd foes about you lay:
For while your actions you yourself relate,
You from your real merits derogate;
With your own breath you blow away your praise,
And overthrow those trophies you would raise;
You talk away those honours you have got,
While some despise you, some believe you not;
Nor is't as pleasant or agreeable
To them to hear, as 'tis to you to tell:
What is't to them what laurels you have gain'd?
What dangers you've escap'd, what wounds sustain'd?
Perhaps they fancy all that you have said
Doth but their sloth, or cowardice upbraid,
And, vex'd or tir'd, they wish you all the same
Danger, and wounds, and hardships o'er again.