Stick full of satire’s savage skewers
The mighty chief of whom I’m boasting,
As one would spit a goose for roasting.[106]
For should they raise with dire misprision,
’Gainst thee one finger in derision;
This right hand rudest doggrel’s club in,
Shall give the knaves a dreadful drubbing.
But thou, the leader of our throng,
Shalt glitter in a future song,
Which I intend to raise sonorous,