Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/475

Rh Ah! let me cease! in vain my bosom burns,

From Corydon unkind Alexis turns:

Thy rhymes are vain; thy Jeffrey then forego,

Nor woo that anger which he will not show.

What then?—Edina starves some lanker son,

To write an article thou canst not shun;

Some less fastidious Scotchman shall be found,

As bold in Billingsgate, though less renowned.

As if at table some discordant dish,

Should shock our optics, such as frogs for fish;

As oil in lieu of butter men decry,

And poppies please not in a modern pie;

If all such mixtures then be half a crime,

We must have Excellence to relish rhyme.

Mere roast and boiled no Epicure invites;

Thus Poetry disgusts, or else delights.

Who shoot not flying rarely touch a gun:

Will he who swims not to the river run?

And men unpractised in exchanging knocks

Must go to Jackson ere they dare to box.