With great Rossini, his own bow and fiddle,—
And even Irving spar'd a night from fame,
And talk'd—till thou didst stop him in the middle,
To serve round Tewah-diddle![219]
VIII.
Then all the guests rose up, and sighed good-bye!
So let them:—thou thyself art still a Host!
Dibdin—Cornaro—Newton—Mrs. Fry!
Mrs. Glasse—Mr. Spec!—Lovelass—and Weber,
Mathews in Quotem—Moore's fire-worshipping Gheber—