The whole together is what I could wish
To serve in this conundrum of a dish.
XXII.
A modest hope—but Modesty's my forte,
And Pride my feeble:[741]—let us ramble on.
I meant to make this poem very short,
But now I can't tell where it may not run.[NO]
No doubt, if I had wished to pay my court
To critics, or to hail the setting sun
Of Tyranny of all kinds, my concision[742]