Which runs: “In art, forbear to pick and choose. All
That happens, happens. Wherefore, up and pen it!
Let the scribe’s tale be casual and cursory;
End where you like—but start us in the nursery.”
And so I fain had traced, through many a canto,
My heroine; all dimples in her cot;
Bored with her lessons; laughing at the panto.;
Immersed in “Fauntleroy” or Walter Scott:
But, since green herbs from memory’s campo santo
Provide no flavouring for satire’s pot,