Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/435

Rh The greater portion of the rhyming tribe

(Give ear, my friend, for thou hast been a scribe)

Are led astray by some peculiar lure.

I labour to be brief—become obscure;

One falls while following Elegance too fast;

Another soars, inflated with Bombast;

Too low a third crawls on, afraid to fly,

He spins his subject to Satiety;

Absurdly varying, he at last engraves

Fish in the woods, and boars beneath the waves!

Unless your care's exact, your judgment nice,

The flight from Folly leads but into Vice;

None are complete, all wanting in some part,

Like certain tailors, limited in art.

For galligaskins Slowshears is your man

But coats must claim another artisan.

Now this to me, I own, seems much the same