Of Statesmen fallen from their high degree;
Whitehead disdains to ring their passing bell,
And leaves the task to Printers and to me.
Now fades Ambition’s landscape on the sight,
Mock-patriot faces marks of sadness hold,
Dire Disappointment hides his head in night,
But Faction wakes to pen Addresses bold.
In yonder stately rook’ry (Brookes’s fane)
Nothing is heard but rout and wild uproar;
Th’ affrighted Rooks forsake their wonted reign,