There's my favorite Byron my presence inviting,
And Milman, and Coleridge, and Moore, have been writing;
And my ears at this moment confoundedly tingle,
From the squabbling of Blackwood with Cleghorn and Pringle:
But as all their disputes seem at length at an end,
And the poets my levee have ceased to attend;
Since the weather's improving, and lengthen'd the days,
For a visit to Eton I'll order my chaise:
1 This poem, the reader will perceive, is an humble
imitation of Leigh Hunt's "Feast of the Poets;" and the
lines distinguished by asterisks are borrowed or altered
from the original.
2 A writer in "The Morning Post," mentioned by Lord Byron,
in his "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers."
~90~~
There's my sister Diana my day coach to drive,
And I'll send the new Canto to keep you alive.
So my business all settled, and absence supply'd,
For an earthly excursion to-morrow I'll ride."
Thus spoke king Apollo; the Muses assented;
And the god went to bed most bepraised and contented.
'Twas on Saturday morning, near half past eleven,
When a god, like a devil,4 came driving from heaven,
And with postboys, and footmen, and liveries blazing,
Soon set half the country a gaping and gazing.
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