But, oh! my pulse is stopp’d; enough
Of Doctors and of Doctors’ stuff:[20]
Though half his worth is yet unsung,
My muse would rather hold her tongue.
Last came the scarlet troop, as gay
As new-scrap’d carrots for the day:
C—w—ll, and all his comrades too:
Hibernian H—gh—s, and Dicky Dr—we:
Great captains in the fighting trade,
Who serv’d their time upon parade.[21]