’Tis endless to express the wayes he had
To sell their good, and to put off their bad.
But ah! in vain I strive his fame to spread;
The great, the wise, the knowing man is dead.
And you in painting skill’d, his loss bewail;
He’s dead!—that did expose your works to sale.
Can you forget how he for you did bawl,
‘Come, put it in?—a fine original,
Done by a curious hand:—What strokes are here,
Drawn to the life? How fine it does appear!