You laugh (’tis answered), and too freely here
Indulge that vile propensity to sneer.
Lives there, who would not at applause rejoice,
And merit, if he could the public voice?
Who would not leave posterity such rimes,
As cedar oil might keep to latest times—
Rimes which should fear no desperate grocer’s hand,
Nor fly with fish and spices through the land?
Thou, my kind monitor, whoe’er thou art,
Whom I suppose to play the opponent’s part,