'While Poesy,' with these delightful doxies,
'Sustains her part' in all the 'upper' boxes!
'Thus lifted gloriously, you'll soar along,'
Borne in the vast balloon of Busby's song;
'Shine in your farce, masque, scenery, and play'
(For this last line George had a holiday).
'Old Drury never, never soar'd so high,'
So says the manager, and so say I.
'But hold,' you say, 'this self-complacent boast;'
Is this the poem which the public lost?