He has perfect sway of what I call a sham metre,
But many admire it, the English pentameter,
And Campbell, I think, wrote most commonly worse,
With less nerve, swing, and fire in the same kind of verse,
Nor e’er achieved aught in’t so worthy of praise
As the tribute of Holmes to the grand ‘Marseillaise.’
You went crazy, last year, over Bulwer’s ‘New Timon’;
Why, if B., to the day of his dying, should rhyme on,
Heaping verses on verses and tomes upon tomes,
He could ne’er reach the best point and vigour of Holmes.