For jaded gluttons, keen to gloat
On savoury sauce of Anecdote.
Yet let nor cook nor eaters rue,
The eaten seem to like it too,
For in Society's new game
Cooks, food, and eaters are the same,
And Fashion, spider-like, supplies
Her self-spun web to catch her flies!
Thou boastful "Spirit of the Time,"
Wake prose itself to angry rhyme!