In their high praise and glory; he had call’d
Reviewing “the ungentle craft,” and then
Become as base a critic as e’er crawl’d—
Fed, paid, and pamper’d by the very men
By whom his muse and morals had been maul’d;
He had written much blank verse, and blanker prose,
And more of both than anybody knows.
He had written Wesley’s life:—here turning round
To Satan, “Sir, I’m ready to write yours,
In two octavo volumes, nicely bound,