University of Virginia Library

In vain at glory gudgeon Boswell snaps—
His mind's a paper kite—compos'd of scraps;
Just o'er the tops of chimneys form'd to fly;
Not with a wing sublime to mount the sky.
Say to the dog, his head's a downright drum
Unequal to the history of Tom Thumb:
Nay tell of anecdote that thirsty leech,
He is not equal to a Tyburn speech .
 

Composed for the unfortunate brave of Newgate, by different historians.