We know him, out of Shakespeare's art,
And those fine curses which he spoke;
The old Timon, with his noble heart,
That, strongly loathing, greatly broke.
So died the Old: here comes the New:
Regard him: a familiar face:
I thought we knew him: What, it's you
The padded man—that wears the stays—
Who killed the girls and thrill'd the boys
With dandy pathos when you wrote,