Johnson's Style

I own I like not Johnson's turgid style, That gives an inch the importance of a mile, Casts of manure a wagon-load around, To raise a simple daisy from the ground; Uplifts the club of Hercules—for what? To crush a butterfly or brain a gnat; Creates a whirlwind from the earth, to draw A goose's feather or exalt a straw; Sets wheels on wheels in motion—such a clatter, To force up one poor nipperkin of water; Bids ocean labor with tremendous roar, To heave a cockle-shell upon the shore; Alike in every theme his pompous art, Heaven's awful thunder or a rumbling cart!