So stole away, resolved to go to bed.
When oft to write a Book we undertake,
If from the subject we a circuit make,
Some apt allusions may our minds engage,
Perchance for profit, to swell out our Page;
The little I may venture to intrude,
I introduce, by way of Interlude.
Your mercy then, good Critics, I entreat,
Mine is a sort of stuffing to my Meat;
Something of Foreign matter I must tell,