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Parrots, who learn their only song by rote,
* Miss Mitford is authoress of “Christina, or the Maid of the South Seas;” and Miss Holford, of “Wallace, or the Fight of Falkirk;” both written in humble imitation of Mr. Scott, and “very
Still, with the greatest, titled * Grenville vies,
Whom awed Plebeians mark aspiring rise,
- - - - e - every wheel of that unwearied mill
That turn'd ten thousand verses, now stands still.
* From Moore so lashed, example fit,
Shun petty larceny in wit.
Such was the advice of Green. But, alas! it is all in vain. If the plentiful supply of satirical acid, which has been administered to the literary offenders of this and the last century, had produced any effect in preventing others from catching the contagion, I should not have had the trouble of wading through the pages of the Right Honorable Lord George Grenville. I would willingly believe that Lord G–’s “peccatum” is, like that of Terence,
But I am sadly afraid that his lordship's Muse has addicted herself to the bad habits of “picking and stealing,” till she has lost
? Prol, ad Terent, Eunuch.
Blend, with some scraps from high Parnassus caught,
The trite description, and the hackney'd thought;
all idea of “the difference between meum and tuum.” In support of this opinion I have subjoined a few extracts from “Portu
gal;” and for further proofs, refer to the poem itself, from page 1
to the end.
Yes, in that gen’rous cause for ever high.
Pleasures of Hope.
For manly courage mourn, untimely lost,
When best employed, and wanted most.
Introduction to Marmion.
Perchance it trickle to a stranger's tomb.
Then, fathering verse by nobler Poets writ,
(An ample Plagiarist, tho' half-form'd Wit)
Is this your triumph? this your proud applause?
Pleasures of Hope.
The wind’s last breath had toss'd in air,
The fleet stag bounds from out his covert shade,
Pilfer whole lines without a blush of shame,
And gild the shred and patchwork with his name.
The rock-bird, startled from his nest on high,
Bends to the unwonted storm a wondering eye,
The exulting eagle screamed afar.
Far from the tumult fled the roe,