Dr. John Wolcot

Edmund, "To Peter Pindar" General Advertiser (19 December 1786).

Lo! I, who late a Limb of Law,
Tortured sound acts to find a flaw,
And stiled tautology good sense,
Sticking at nothing to gain pence:
Now first essay, in doggrel rhime,
To chaunt the praise of mock sublime;
And sing the louse of Peter's head,
Much better taught I ween than fed!
Peter, whose fame is Pindar's bays,
Hangman of odes, and eke R.A.'s:
Peter, whose stile so quaint, delights;
Herald of Nicholsonian Knights;
Yet master of the softer song,
Whene'er he roves soft themes among.
Do, Peter, scratch again thy Crown,
Another louse may tumble down;
And, Peter, lice are no bad things,
When they become allied to Kings;
As thou to thy great comfort knew,
When thou gave Kearsley thine to sew,
Or hast thou, oh! disaster big,
Doft all thy hair, and ta'en a wig;
Or, tired with wallowing in the dirt,
Oh, hast thou Peter, washed thy shirt!
Thy lousy brethren of Grubb-street,
Who nightly at the Critic meet,
Swear that Dame Fortune is a bitch,
Has spoil'd thy muse, and made thee rich:
Nay, have resolv'd, if you refuse
Again to whip your skittish muse,
That they, I kindly let you know it,
Will strike you off their list as poet.