Farewel my lov'd science, my former delight, @3Moliere@1 is quite riffled, then how should I write; My fancy 's grown sleepy, my quibling is done, And design or Invention alas I have none; But still let the Town never doubt my Condition, Though I fall a dam'd Poet I'll mount a Musitian. I got fame by filching from Poems and Plays, But my Fidling and drinking has lost me the Bays; Like a fury I rail'd, like a Satyr I writ, @3Thersites@1 my humour, and @3Fleckno@1 my wit; But to make some amends for my snarling and lashing, I divert all the Town with my Thrumming and Thrashing. |