In the Book-worm

The monster issues from the wood That boasts the gallant Nisus' blood; From leaf, &c.

Around my temples laurel bind, But leave that azure silk behind, I'll have my fillet flame with red, To suit a sacrificer's head. Bring Homer, Virgil, Tasso near, To pile a sacred altar here; Now Spencer, Milton, Dryden lift, Row, Steel, Pope, Addison and Swift, Hold boy, thy hand out-runs thy wit, You reach'd the plays that Dennis writ: You reach'd me Phillip's, &c.

Come bind the victim, but forbear To turn his throat to upper air, That posture suits the Gods above, This earth the Muses often love, And now I think they are not gone, They live with Pope and Addison. So—as I would the savage lies, &c.

It foams with wine, upon the beast I pour a drop, and drink the rest, &c.

Here's fame to Pope, and wealth to Steel, And all to Addison he will, May Garth have practice, Congreve sight, May Row get many a full third night; Be gentle Gay's and Tickel's lot At least as good as Budgell got; But if their riches, &c.

Devoted wretch! thy mischief past Has made this point of time thy last,

Beneath the native mail I run, He bleeds, he bleeds, the work is done;

M. Go reach thy sounding harp my boy, And Io Paean! sing for joy. How like, &c.