What Peter! is thy Muse struck dumb? Or pent up in a garrat, For Rats and Mice to stare at? Or 'cause the King is *** art mum?
If so, thou art a noble fellow, Pindar! Though thou didst hunt a louse, An burnt thy subject to a cinder, Thou art a Lion — not a Mouse, As I did think thee, Peter Pindar!
To shew no malice lurketh in thy heart, Wise Peter Pindar! Play thou a glorious part; Write Hymns or Psalms, for those to sing, Who wish well to the King, Do, Peter Pindar!
