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That darling of the Tragic Muse, When Wrangham sung her praise, Thalia lost her rosy hues, And sicken'd at her lays:

But transient was th' unwonted sigh; For soon the Goddess spied A sister-form of mirthful eye, And danc'd for joy and cried:

'Meek Pity's sweetest child, proud dame, The fates have given to you! Still bid your Poet boast her name; I have my Brunton too.'

1794.