Forc'd on a stream to make their way,
To Pot of brass says Pot of clay:
"Since brass is stout and clay is frail,
Pray let us at a distance sail.
Not your intention that I fear,
Sir Brass," adds humble Earthen-ware,
"While the winds leave you to yourself;
But woe betide my ribs of delf,
If it should dash our sides together;
For mine would be the damage, whether
Their force should you or me impel:
So pray proceed, and fare you well."
Learn hence, ye folks of low estate,
To keep due distance from the great.
Source: Boothby - Avianus 6.
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