Ah, Moore! thy skill were well employ’d,
And greater gain would rise
If thou couldst make the courtier void
That worm that never dies.
Thou only canst our fate adjourn
Some few short years, no more;
E’en Button’s wits to worms shall turn,
Who maggots were before.
EPIGRAM ON MRS. TOFTS
(A celebrated Opera Singer.)
So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song,