But without volunteers in green, scarlet, or blue,
We're determined on having An Irish Review.
A review—where a mere moral force we demand,
A review—at which Intellect takes the command,
A review—where each Science delights to combine,
A review—where Wit's facings appear in the line.
A review—where a press procures willing recruits,
A review—where at Folly the satirist shoots;
At poor Private Folly no aim is directed,
But General Folly's the mark that's selected.