Beneath their weight no more the press shall bend,
While common sense stands wondering at their fame.
Oft did the Classics mourn their Critic rage,
While still they found each meaning but the true;
Oft did they heap with notes poor Ovid’s page,
And give to Virgil words he never knew:
Yet ere the partial voice of critic scorn
Condemn their memory, or their toil deride,
Say, have not we had equal cause to mourn
A waste of words, and learning ill applied?