WHEN Thurlow this damn'd nonsense sent (I hope I am not violent), Nor men nor gods knew what he meant. And since not even our Rogers' praise To common sense his thoughts could raise -- Why would they let him print his lays? To me, divine Apollo, grant -- O! Hermilda's first and second canto, I'm fitting up a new portmanteau; And thus to furnish decent lining, My own and others' bays I'm twining -- So, gentle Thurlow, throw me thine in. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FREDERICK DOUGLASS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ASSUNPINK AND PRINCETON [JANUARY 3, 1777] by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH THE WISTFUL DAYS by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON THE EXEQUY [ON HIS WIFE] by HENRY KING (1592-1669) VERSES TO MR. C by ALEXANDER POPE THE PHOENIX AND THE TURTLE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |