From lofty Middlesex[54] to lowly Scroop.
}
{ What times are these, when, in the hero's room,
{ Bow-bending Cupid doth with ballads come,
{ And little Aston[55] offers to the bum?
Can two such pigmies such a weight support,
Two such Tom Thumbs of satire in a court?
Poor George[56] grows old, his muse worn out of fashion,
Hoarsely he sung Ephelia's lamentation.
Less art thou helped by Dryden's bed-rid age;