Once more the sportive true depictive muse

Once more the sportive true depictive muse, Her city scenes and painting art pursues, Scans o'er the town and in her verse she trys, "To catch the manners living as they rise;" To hold a glaring mirror to your eyes, Where looks are seen without the least disguise.

Some take offence to see themselves in print And swears the poet tries a roguish tint— But why should people blush at meeting here The looks with which they ev'ry day appear? Vice only gives the conscious bosom smart, For virtuous people lay it not to heart, And all attempts when truth is not their aim Are vague and pointless as unworthy name.