A MAN must serve his time to ev’ry trade
Save censure; critics all are ready-made.
Take hackney’d jokes from Miller, got by rote,
With just enough of learning to misquote;
A mind well skill’d to find or forge a fault,
A turn for punning, call it Attic salt;
To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet;
His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet.
Fear not to lie—’twill seem a sharper hit;
Shrink not from blasphemy—’twill pass for wit;