And how the rigid Minister[[321]] prevail’d.

And ah! what verse can grace thy stately mien,

Guide of the world, preferment’s golden queen,

Neckar’s fair daughter,—Stael the Epicene!

Bright o’er whose flaming cheek and pumple[[322]] nose

The bloom of young desire unceasing glows!

Fain would the Muse—but ah! she dares no more,

A mournful voice from lone Guyana’s shore,[[323]]

Sad Quatremer-the bold presumption checks,

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