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UR Drama now ended, I’ll take up your time Jut a moment or two, in defence of my rhime— “Tho’ I hope that among you are ome who admir’d “What I’ve hitherto aid, dare I hope none are tir’d? “But whether ye have, or have not heard enough, “Or whether nice critics will think it all luff; “To myelf rhime has ever appear’d, I mut own, “In its nature a ort of philoopher’s tone; “And if Chymits wou’d ue it, they’d not make a pother, “And puzzle their brains to find out any other.” Indeed ’tis mot trange and urpriing to me That all folks in rhiming their int’ret can’t ee; For I’m ure if its ue were quite common with men, The world would roll on jut as pleaant again. “&thinsp;’Tis aid, that while was triking his lyre, “Trees and brutes danc’d along to the ound of the wire; “That to walls oon converted the glebes, “And they roe, as he ung, to a city call’d Thebes; “I uppofe they were Butlers (like me) of that time, “And the tale hows our ires knew the wonders of rhime” From time immemorial, your lovers, we find, When their mitrees’ hearts have been proud and unkind, Have reorted to rhime; and indeed it appears That a rhime would do more than a bucket of tears. Of love, from experience, I peak—odds my life! I hall never forget how I courted my wife: She had offers in plenty; but always tood neuter, ’Till I, with my pen, tarted forth as a uitor; Yet I made no mean preent of ribband or bonnet, My preent was caught from the tars—’twas a onnet. “And now you know this, ure ’tis needles to ay, “That proe was neglected, and rhime won the day— “But its potent effects you as well may dicover “In the huband and wife, as in mitres and lover; “There