He was not form’d for over-reaching.
The law—why there still fate ill-starr’d him,
And plainly from the bar debarr’d him:
A doctor—who would ever fee him?
In music he could scarce engage,
And as for going on the stage
In tragic socks I think I see him!
He would not make a rigging-mounter;
A haberdasher had some merit,
But there the counter still ran counter,