Still on the general wreck abide,
Terror and Tyranny beside,
And privileg’d in fall’n estate,
Walk humbly with the power they hate,
Regretful of their happier times,
And sighing o’er a nation’s crimes.
Yet Byrkley Bowers, your Emma’s art[[80]]
Such sweet delusion can impart,
Such truth her curious pencil gives,
That Needwood in its magic lives.