Verses by John Frederick Bryant late tobacco-pipe maker at Bristol. Together with his life, written by himself |
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Tune, Strephon and his Chlora lying. |
 | Verses by John Frederick Bryant |  |
Tune, Strephon and his Chlora lying.
And our president, right worthy,For my song has knock'd me down:
Come, my muse! for once bestir thee;
Heav'n avert the critic's frown!
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If, probatum est, they smile,
Shall dispel what doubts confound me,
Prompt my verse, and grace my style.
Though shou'd you look one size graver,
Ah! my song would soon be done;
Or, distrustful of your favour,
Timid I should venture on.
| Verses by John Frederick Bryant | |