I study, also Blair—the highest reachers
Of eloquence in piety and prose—
I hate your poets, so read none of those.
CLXVI.
As for the ladies, I have nought to say,
A wanderer from the British world of Fashion,[157]
Where I, like other "dogs, have had my day,"
Like other men, too, may have had my passion—
But that, like other things, has passed away,
And all her fools whom I could lay the lash on: