Or sit beneath the beechen shade;
And, as it seem'd, were never cloy'd
With tender converse so enjoy'd;
It hap'd some Critic keen discovers
Whom I meant by 'The Crooked Lovers.'
The May'ress call'd th' obedient Mayor
To frown from magisterial chair,
And with the terrors of his mace
To drive my Hunch-back from the place;—
And on the high-road I once more