Ah! see corruption shed the golden show'r, O'er plodding dulness and the sons of care; Whilst heav'n-born poets curse the fatal shore, Nor blooming genius meet with half the share.
But still thy soft maeonian strain shall charm, O Shenstone! wisdom's, virtue's, honour's son, Nurs'd by thy care each classic muse from harm Shall tune to past'ral stop, the doric song.
With memory's pen bright in the golden page, Enroll'd shall shine till time shall be no more; Thy much-lov'd name, to each progressive age, And fame shall stretch the sound from shore to shore.
Mr. Shenstone as a gentleman and poet deserves honourable mention, and his poems, a few trifling songs &c. omitted, are worthy the amiable and ingenious author.
