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297

Still must I hear?—shall hoarse Fitzgerald bawl
His creaking couplets in a tavern hall,
And I not sing, lest, haply, Scotch Reviews
Should dub me scribbler, and denounce my Muse?

298

Prepare for rhyme—I'll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let Satire be my song.
 

Imitation.

“Semper ego auditor tantum? nunquamne reponam,
Vexatus toties rauci Theseide Codri?”

Juvenal, Satire I. l. 1.

Hoarse Fitzgerald.”—“Right enough; but why notice such a mountebank?”—B., 1816.

Mr. Fitzgerald, facetiously termed by Cobbett the “Small Beer Poet,” inflicts his annual tribute of verse on the Literary Fund: not content with writing, he spouts in person, after the company have imbibed a reasonable quantity of bad port, to enable them to sustain the operation.