Of his sapphics, so cruelly mangled by Canning—
So safely remov’d both from sense and from scanning;[78]
(For our Laureat dealt largely in sapphics seditious,[79]
Before he got scent of the loaves and the fishes),
Or his Botany Eclogues, from which one would swear
That the Poet had learnt his morality there.[80]
Poor Joan[81] ever doom’d to be burnt in our ire,
Once more by all England condemn’d to the fire.
Sure Southey, like Bedford, was born for thy curse,
And we burn thee again, to atone for his verse.