The Rosciad, 1761, l. 259.
WILLIAM WHITEHEAD, 1762
(1715-1785)
But chief avoid the boisterous roaring sparks,
The sons of fire!—you’ll know them by their marks.
Fond to be heard, they always court a crowd,
And, though ’tis borrow’d nonsense, talk it loud.
One epithet supplies their constant chime,
Damn’d bad, damn’d good, damn’d low, or damn’d sublime.
But most in quick short repartee they shine,