In rings and seals your “Goldsmith” ’s fair,
You must confess, as could be;
And yet that “Livy” is, you swear,
No better than she should be!
“Moore” would I say to you! Ah me!
O’er “Little” you grow cold;
You say that “Lamb” should quartered be,
And “Young” you say is old.
Your “Johnson” you a “Walker” make,
So merciless your ravage;