Which brings the charm so quick about,
That worn-out poets, left without
A second foot whereon to stand,
Are made to go at second hand;
'T will please the public, we repeat,
To learn that Tegg who works this feat,
And therefore knows what care it needs
To keep alive Fame's invalids,
Has oped an Hospital in town,
For cases of knockt-up renown
Falls, fractures, dangerous Epic fits
(By some called Cantoes), stabs from
wits;

And of all wounds for which they're nurst,

Dead cuts from publishers, the worst;-
All these, and other such fatalities,
That happen to frail immortalities,
By Tegg are so expertly treated,
That oft-times, when the cure 's com-
pleted,

The patient's made robust enough
To stand a few more rounds of puff,
Till like the ghosts of Dante's lay
He's puft into thin air away!

As titled poets (being phenomenons) Don't like to mix with low and common 'uns,

Tegg's Hospital has separate wards,
Express for literary lords,

Where prose-peers, of immoderate length, Are nurst, when they 've outgrown their strength,

And poets, whom their friends despair of, Are put to bed and taken care of.

Tegg beggs to contradict a story
Now current both with Whig and Tory,
That Doctor Warburton, M.P.,
Well known for his antipathy,
His deadly hate, good man, to all
The race of poets great and small
So much, that he 's been heard to own,
He would most willingly cut down
The holiest groves on Pindus' mount,
To turn the timber to account! —
The story actually goes, that he
Prescribes at Tegg's Infirmary;
And oft not only stints for spite
The patients in their copy-right,
But that on being called in lately
To two sick poets suffering greatly,

What the dowager-author's gift was to be.

And here, I must say, the Sisters Blue Showed delicate taste and judgment too. For finding the poor man suffering greatly From the awful stuff he has thrown up lately

So much so indeed to the alarm of all, As to bring on a fit of what doctors call The Antipapistico-monomania

(I'm sorry with such a long word to detain ye),

They 've acted the part of a kind physician,

By suiting their gift to the patient's condition;

And as soon as 't is ready for presentation, We shall publish the facts for the gratification

Of this highly-favored and Protestant nation.

Meanwhile, to the great alarm of his neighbors,

He still continues his Quarterly labors; And often has strong No-Popery fits, Which frighten his old nurse out of her wits.

Sometimes he screams, like Scrub in the play,2

"Thieves! Jesuits! Popery!" night and day;

1 See Congreve's "Love for Love."
2" Beaux' Stratagem."

A POOR POET'S DREAM.8

As I sate in my study, lone and still, Thinking of Sergeant Talfourd's Bill, And the speech by Lawyer Sugden made, In spirit congenial, for "the Trade,"

3 The writer of the article has groped about with much success, in what he calls "the dark recesses of Dr. Dens's disquisitions." Quarterly Review.

4 "Pray, may we ask, has there been any rebellious movement of Popery in Ireland, since the planting of the Ulster colonies, in which something of the kind was not visible among the Presbyterians of the North."- Ibid.

5 "Lord Lorton, for instance, who, for clearing his estate of a village of Irish Thuggists," etc.- Quarterly Review.

6 "Observe how murder after murder is committed like minute-guns."— Ibid.

7" Might not the archives of the Propaganda possibly supply the key?"

8 Written during the late agitation of the question of Copyright.