Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/483

Rh Reviews record this epidemic crime,

Those Books of Martyrs to the rage for rhyme.

Alas! woe worth the scribbler! often seen

In Morning Post, or Monthly Magazine.

There lurk his earlier lays; but soon, hot pressed,

Behold a Quarto!—Tarts must tell the rest.

Then leave, ye wise, the Lyre's precarious chords

To muse-mad baronets, or madder lords,

Or country Crispins, now grown somewhat stale,

Twin Doric minstrels, drunk with Doric ale!

Hark to those notes, narcotically soft!

The Cobbler-Laureats sing to Capel Loftt!