@3These@1 labouring wits, like paviours, mend our ways, With heavy, huge, repeated, flat, essays; Ram their coarse nonsense down, though ne'er so dull; And hem at every thump upon your skull; @3These@1 staunch-bred writing hounds begin to cry, And honest folly echoes to the lye. O how I laugh, when I a blockhead see, Thanking a villain for his @3probity.@1 Who stretches out a most respectful ear, With snares for woodcocks in his holy leer: I tickles through my soul to hear the @3cock's@1 Sincere encomium on his friend the @3fox,@1 Sole @3patron@1 of his @3liberties@1 and @3rights!@1 While graceless @Reynard@1 listens -- till he bites. As when the trumpet sounds, the o'er loaded state Discharges all her @3poor@1 and @3profligate@1; Crimes of all kinds dishonour'd weapons wield, And @3prisons@1 pour their filth into the field; Thus nature's refuse, and the dregs of men, Compose the @3black militia of the pen.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KATHMANDU GUEST HOUSE by KAREN SWENSON ON THE PORTRAIT OF SHAKESPEARE by BEN JONSON DANS LA BOHEME by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH WAR NOTES: 2. PRO PATRIA MORI by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON HYMN 6. ERYSICHTHON by CALLIMACHUS THE CHERUBS; SUGGESTED BY AN APOLOGUE IN THE WORKS OF FRANKLIN by THOMAS CAMPBELL |