Obscure he sinks, forgot his worth and name,
For Sheridan forbids the smallest fame;
To paltry players, no more shall he impart
An hour’s delight to the convivial heart:
Thither no more shall witty lords repair,
To sweet oblivion of the senate’s care!
No more the anecdote, the luscious tale,
The mirth-inspiring good-thing shall prevail;
No more the fop his cobweb’d sconce shall cheer,
Padlock his flippant tongue, and learn to hear;