AN IRISH EPIGRAM ON THE SAME
While with the fustian of thy book,
The witty ancient you enrobe,
You make the graceful Horace look
As pitiful as Tom M'Lobe.[1]
Ye Muses, guard your sacred mount,
And Helicon, for if this log
Should stumble once into the fount,
He'll make it muddy as a bog.
[Footnote 1: A notorious Irish poetaster, whose name had become
proverbial.—Scott.]
ON CARTHY'S TRANSLATION OF LONGINUS
High as Longinus to the stars ascends,
So deeply Carthy to the centre tends.
RATIO INTER LONGINUM ET CARTHIUM COMPUTATA
Aethereas quantum Longinus surgit in auras,
Carthius en tantum ad Tartara tendit iter.