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And Amor Patriæ vending smuggled tea.
Last in these ranks and least, their art's disgrace,
Neglected stand the Muse's meanest race:
Scribblers who court contempt, whose verse the eye
Disdainful views, and glances swiftly by:
This Poet's Corner is the place they choose,
A fatal nursery for an infant Muse;
Unlike that corner where true poets lie,
These cannot live, and they shall never die;