| Line. | | Line. |
| 28 | And men through life her willing slaves obey. | |
| | Obeyed by all who nought beside obey. | 28 |
| 30 | Unfolds her motley store to suit the time. | |
| | Bedecks her cap with bells of every clime. | 30 |
| 32 | When Justice halts, and Right begins to fail. | |
| | And weigh their Justice in a golden scale. | 32 |
| 71 | Fear not to lie, 'twill seem a lucky hit. | |
| | Fear not to lie,'twill seem a sharper hit. | 71 |
| 173 | Low may they sink to merited contempt, | |
| 174 | And scorn remunerate the mean attempt. | |
| | Still for stern Mammon may they toil in vain! | 179 |
| | And sadly gaze on Gold they cannot gain. | 180 |
| 257 | How well the subject suits his noble mind! | |
| 258 | "A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind." | |
| | So well the subject suits his noble mind, | 263 |
| | He brays, the Laureate of the long-eared kind. | 264 |
| 303 | In many marble-covered volumes view | |
| 304 | Hayley, in vain attempting something new: | |
| 305 | Whether he spin his comedies in rhyme, | |
| 306 | Or scrawl, as Wood and Barclay walk, 'gainst time. | |
| | Behold—Ye Tarts!—one moment spare the text! | 309 |
| | Hayley's last work, and worst—until his next; | 310 |
| | Whether he spin poor couplets into plays, | 311 |
| | Or damn the dead with purgatorial praise. | 312 |
| 323 | And shows, dissolved in thine own melting tears. | |
| | And shows, still whimpering thro' threescore of years. 329 |
| 327 | Whether in sighing winds thou seek'st relief | |
| 328 | Or consolation in a yellow leaf. | |
| | Whether thou sing'st with equal ease and grief, | 333 |
| | The fall of empires or a yellow leaf. | 334 |
| 385 | Fresh fish from Helicon! Who'll buy! Who'll buy? | |
| | Fresh fish from Hippocrene! who'll buy? who'll buy? | 391 |
| 387 | Too much in turtle Bristol's sons delight, | |
| 388 | Too much o'er bowls of Rack prolong the night. | |
| | Your turtle-feeder's verse must needs be flat, | 393 |
| | Though Bristol bloat him with the verdant fat. | 394 |
| 502 | First in the ranks illustrious shall be seen. | |
| | First in the oat-fed phalanx shall be seen. | 508 |
| 511 | As he himself was damned, shall try to damn. | |
| | Damned like the Devil—Devil-like will damn. | 517 |
| 532 | And grateful to the founder of the feast, | |
| 533 | Declare his landlord can translate, at least, | |
| | And, grateful for the dainties on his plate, | 550 |
| | Declare his landlord can at least translate. | 551 |
| 552 | While Kenny's World just suffered to proceed, | |
| 553 | Proclaims the audience very kind indeed. | |
| | While Kenney's "World"—ah! where is Kenney's wit?— | 570 |
| | Tires the sad gallery, lulls the listless Pit. | 571 |
| 563 | Let Comedy resume her throne again. | |
| | Let Comedy assume her throne again. | 581 |
| 569 | Where Garrick trod, and Kemble lives to tread. | |
| | Where Garrick trod, and Siddons lives to tread. | 587 |
| 614 | Raise not your scythe, Suppressors of our Vice. | |
| | Whet not your scythe, Suppressors of our Vice. | 632 |
| 625 | The Arbiter of pleasure and of play. | |
| | Our arbiter of pleasure and of play. | 643 |
| 661 | And, kinder still, a Paget for your wife. | |
| | And, kinder still, two Pagets for your wife. | 679 |
| 728 | Want your defence, let Pity be your screen. | |
| | Want is your plea, let Pity be your screen. | 746 |
| 742 | Some stragglers skirmish round their columns still. | |
| | Some stragglers skirmish round the columns still. | 760 |
| 815 | The spoiler came; and all thy promise fair | |
| 816 | Has sought the grave, to sleep for ever there. | |
| | The Spoiler swept that soaring Lyre away, | 834 |
| | Which else had sounded an immortal lay. | 835 |
| 891 | The native genius with their feeling given. | |
| | The native genius with their being given. | 909 |
| 903 | Let Moore be lewd; let Strangford steal from Moore. | |
| | Let Moore still sigh; let Strangford steal from Moore. | 921 |
| 922 | For outlawed Sherwood's tales of Robin Hood. | |
| | For Sherwood's outlaw tales of Robin Hood. | 940 |
| 946 | And even spurns the great Seatonian prize. | |
| | Even from the tempting ore of Seaton's prize. | 964 |
| 965 | So sunk in dullness and so lost in shame, | |
| 966 | That Smythe and Hodgson scarce redeem thy fame. | |
| | So lost to Phoebus, that nor Hodgson's verse | 983 |
| | Can make thee better, nor poor Hewson's worse. | 984 |
| 969 | On her green banks a greener wreath is wove. | |
| | On her green banks a greener wreath she wove. | 987 |
| 972 | And modern Britons justly praise their Sires. | |
| | And modern Britons glory in their Sires. | 990 |
| 984 | Earth's chief Dictatress, Ocean's mighty Queen. | |
| | Earth's chief Dictatress, Ocean's lovely Queen. | 1002 |
| 1005 | But should I back return, no lettered rage | |
| 1006 | Shall drag my common-place book on the stage: | |
| 1007 | Let vain Valentia rival luckless Carr, | |
| 1008 | And equal him whose work he sought to mar. | |
| | But should I back return, no tempting press | 1023 |
| | Shall drag my Journal from the desk's recess; | 1024 |
| | Let coxcombs, printing as they come from far, | 1025 |
| | Snatch his own wreath of Ridicule from Carr. | 1026 |
| 1016 | I leave topography to classic Gell. | |
| | I leave topography to rapid Gell. | 1034 |
| 1018 | To stun mankind with Poesy or Prose. | |
| | To stun the public ear—at least with Prose. | 1036 |
| 1049 | Thus much I've dared to do; how far my lay. | |
| | Thus much I've dared: if my incondite lay. | 1067 |