LINES WRITTEN IN RIDICULE OF THOMAS WARTON'S POEMS
Wheresoe'er I turn my view,
All is strange, yet nothing new;
Endless labour all along,
Endless labour to be wrong;
Phrase that time has flung away,
Uncouth words in disarray;
Trickt in antique ruff and bonnet,
Ode and elegy and sonnet.
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