There was Arnold, and Reynolds, and Dibdin, and Cherry,

All grinning as who should say, Shan't we be merry?' And mighty dull Cobb, lumb'ring just like a bear up, And sweet Billy Dimond, a patting his hair up.

The God, for an instant, sat fix'd as a stone,

Till recov'ring, he said in a good-natur'd tone,
Oh, the waiters, I see ;-

-ah, it's all very well,

Only one of you'll do just to answer the bell.'

But lord! to see all the great dramatists' faces !

They looked at each other, and made such grimaces!

Then turning about, left the room in vexation,

And Hook, they say, could'nt help mutt'ring Damnation!'

"Twas lucky for Colman he was'nt there too,

For his pranks would have certainly met with their due,

And Sheridan's also, that finished old tricker;—
But one was in prison, and both were in liquor.'5
The God fell a laughing to see his mistake,
But stopp'd with a sigh for poor Comedy's sake;
Then gave mine host orders, who bow'd to the floor,
And presented three cards that were brought to the door:
Apollo just gave them a glance with his eye

• Spencer-Rogers-Montgom'ry,'-and putting them by,

Begg'd the landlord to give his respects to all three,
And say he'd be happy to see them to tea.

Your Majesty then,' said the Gaius, don't know

That a person nam'd Crabbe has been waiting below?
He has taken his chair in the kitchen, they say.'

'Indeed!' said Apollo, Oh pray let him stay:

He'll be much better pleased to be with 'em down stairs,
And will find ye all out with your cookings and cares :-
But mind that you treat him as well as you're able,
And let him have part of what goes from the table.'”
A soft, smiling voice then arose on the ear,

As if some one from court was about to appear :

Oh, this is the room, my good friend? Ah I see it is ;

Room, sure enough, for the best-bred of deities!'
Then came a whisper,-and then was a hush,-

And then, with a sort of a look of a blush,
Came in Mr. Hayley, all polish'd confusion,

And said, 'Will Apollo excuse this intrusion?

I might have kept back,-but I thought 'twould look odd,― And friendship, you know,-pray how is my dear God?" A smile, followed up by a shake of the head,

Cross'd the fine lip of Phoebus, who view'd him, and said,

I'll give you a lesson, Sir, quite your own seeking, And one that you very much want,-on plain speaking. Pray have you to learn,—and at this time of day,

That your views on regard have been all the wrong way ?
One ten thousandth part of the words and the time
That you've wasted on praises instead of your rhyme,
Might have gained you a title to this kind of freedom ;
But volumes of endings, lugg'd in as you need 'em,
Of hearts and imparts, where's the soul that can read 'em?
So saying, his eye so alarmingly shone,

That ere it could wink, the poor devil was gone.

A hem was then heard, consequential and snapping, And a sour little gentleman walk'd with a rap in. He bow'd, look'd about him, seem'd cold, and sat down, And said, 'I'm surpris'd that you'll visit this town:To be sure, there are one or two of us who know you,

But as for the rest, they are all much below you.

So stupid, in gen'ral, the natives are

grown,

They really prefer Scotch reviews to their own;

So that what with their taste, their reformers, and stuff,

They have sicken'd myself and my friends long enough.'

"Yourself and your friends!' cried the God in high glee;

be?'

'And pray, my frank visitor, who may you
* Who be?" cried the other; why really-this tone-
William Gifford's a name, I think, pretty well known!"
'Oh-now I remember,' said Phoebus;- ah true→→→
My thanks to that name are undoubtedly due:

The rod, that got rid of the Cruscas and Lauras,—
That plague of the butterflies,-sav'd me the horrors;
The Juvenal too stops a gap in one's shelf,

At least in what Dryden has not done himself;

And there's something, which even distaste must respect,

In the self-taught example, that conquer'd neglect,

But not to insist on the recommendations

Of modesty, wit, and a small stock of patience,

My visit just now is to poets alone,

And not to small critics, however well known.'

So saying he rang, to leave nothing in doubt,
And the sour little gentleman bless'd himself out."
Next came Walter Scott with a fine weighty face,
For as soon as his visage was seen in the place,
The diners and barmaids all crowded to know him,
And thank him with smiles for that sweet pretty poem!..

However, he scarcely had got through the door,
When he look'd adoration, and bow'd to the floor,
For his host was a God,-what a very great thing!
And what was still greater in his eyes,-a King! 10
Apollo smil'd shrewdly, and bade him sit down
With Well, Mr. Scott, you have manag'd the town;
Now pray, copy less,-have a little temerity,-

-Try if you can't also manage posterity.

-All you add now only lessens your credit;

And how could you think too of taking to edite?

A great deal's endur'd, where there's measure and rhyme; But prose such as your's is a pure waste of time,

A singer of ballads unstrung by a cough,

Who fairly talks on, till his hearers walk off.
Be original, man; study more, scribble less;
Nor mistake present favour for lasting success;
And remember, if laurels are what you would find,
The crown of all triumph is freedom of mind.11

'And here,' cried Apollo, is one at the door,

Who shall prove what I say, or my art is no more.

Ah, Campbell, you're welcome :-well, how have you been,

Since the last time I saw you on Sydenham-green?