"Horace was wrong when once he said,
Hogarth and he were of a trade.
No varying verse, howe'er divine,
Can match with Raphael's stronger line.
The pencil, like contracted light,
Strikes with superior force the sight.
"Churchill, be wise: in time retire,
While Hogarth yet suspends his fire;
There's something in thee like a spell,
Though we can't love,—we wish thee well.