251. Impromptu Lines to Captain Riddell

 YOUR News and Review, sir.

 I’ve read through and through, sir,
With little admiring or blaming;
 The Papers are barren
 Of home-news or foreign,
No murders or rapes worth the naming.



 Our friends, the Reviewers,
 Those chippers and hewers,
Are judges of mortar and stone, sir;
 But of meet or unmeet,
 In a fabric complete,
I’ll boldly pronounce they are none, sir;


 My goose-quill too rude is
 To tell all your goodness
Bestow’d on your servant, the Poet;
 Would to God I had one
 Like a beam of the sun,
And then all the world, sir, should know it!

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