"In mercy spare me when I do my best, To make as much waste paper as the rest." Oh, ye! enthron'd in presidential awe, To give the song-smit generation law; Who wield Apollo's delegated rod, And shake Parnassus with your sovereign nod; A pensive Pilgrim, worn with base turmoils, Plebian cares, and mercenary toils, Implores your pity, while with footsteps rude, He dares within the mountain's pale intrude; For, oh! enchantment through its empire dwells, And rules the spirit with Lethëan spells; By hands unseen aërial harps are hung, And Spring, like Hebe, ever fair and young, On her broad bosom rears the laughing loves, And breathes bland incense through the warbling groves; Spontaneous, bi…
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