Perchance some kindred creature would have fix’d
On some plain stone, the lines herewith annex’d:—
“Oh! grant, here—reader, but one moment’s pause—
Behold—this man did ransack o’er his brain;
And found a word or two to help the cause,
So strove to rhythm them in humble strain.”
* * * * *
But ere, my lord, I stop my feeble muse,
I ask of thee, and feel thou’lt not refuse,
To send me back those manuscripts of mine—