And useless drafts, in many a mould'ring heap,
Each for parade to catch the client's eye;
Salkeld and Ventris in oblivion sleep.
In these dead hours, what now remains for me,
Still to the stool and to the desk confin'd:
Debarr'd from Autumn shades, and liberty,
Whose lips are soft as my Cleora's kind!"
"See Term appears to rule a passive world,
And awe the frighted rustick with its train