To jumble fun and opera, grave and comic,
In one vile mess—then call the mixture Shakspeare.
No more of him: my hopes are all evanish’d,
For “Hexham’s battle,” slew him: “The Iron Chest”
Sunk him to Shadwell’s bathos; and “John Bull”
Drove off in wild affright the polish’d muse.
P.
Sure there are more, whose names have not yet reach’d me.
C. M.
Why should I rescue from oblivion’s flood,