F. To SCOTT you'll grant some portion of renown; The man has pleas'd—
P. Aye, surfeited the town.— How versatile his talents! full of whim:— Bard, courtier, critic, all combin'd in him; And much I wish that he had spar'd his pains To edit Swift, and mangle Dryden's strains. Stifled with praise — and such, as I can say, I never gain'd, and hope I never may; His careless muse neglects a nobler aim, And looks not to posterity for fame. Some deep romantic scene, where mould'ring time Has mark'd each tow'r and battlement sublime; Where barbarous mirth, revenge, and feudal rage Shew the rude manners of a former age; Romances, by tradition only known, He paints with life and vigour all his own.
