To thee, with hope and terror dumb,
The unfledged MS. authors come;
Thou printest all—and sellest some—
My Murray.
3.
Upon thy table's baize so green
The last new Quarterly is seen,—
But where is thy new Magazine,[100]
My Murray?
4.
Along thy sprucest bookshelves shine
The works thou deemest most divine—
The Art of Cookery,[101] and mine,
My Murray.
5.
Tours, Travels, Essays, too, I wist,
And Sermons, to thy mill bring grist;
And then thou hast the Navy List,
My Murray.
6.
And Heaven forbid I should conclude,
Without "the Board of Longitude,"[102]
Although this narrow paper would,
My Murray.