To Mr. T—d, on his complimenting Mr. F—de on his Poetry.
F—de writes well, you say; suppose it true,
You pawn your word for him;—he’ll vouch for you;
So two poor knaves, when once their credit fail,
To cheat the world, become each other’s bail.
On a handsome Woman, with a fine voice, but very covetous and proud.
So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song,
As had drawn both the beasts, and their Orpheus along;
But such is thy avarice and such is thy pride,
That the beasts must have starved, and the poet have died.