In books I never fail to find, A banquet for the hungry mind. From busy scenes I oft elope, To chat with Addison and Pope: Whene'er I'm in a merry mood, Swift's pieces always do me good; And often much delight I feel, From the arch strokes of sprightly Steel. When I am in a grumbling way, I vent my spleen with fretful Gay; Who, with a true Horatian spirit, Attacks the foes to shining merit. From him I learn this useful hint; "A great man's nod has nothing in't."
