Novels Lord Fopling and Sir Plume require;
For songs and plays the voice of Beauty cries,
And Sense and Nature Grandison desire.
For thee, who mindful of thy lov’d compeers
Dost in these lines their artless tales relate,
If Chance, with prying search, in future years,
Some antiquarian shall enquire thy fate,
Haply some friend may shake his hoary head
And say, “Each morn, unchill’d by frosts, he ran
“With hose ungarter’d, o’er yon turfy bed,