XLVIII

2 0 00

XLVIII

Reader, whoever thou mayst be,

Foeman or friend, I do aspire

To part in amity with thee!

Adieu! whate’er thou didst desire

From careless stanzas such as these,

Of passion reminiscences,

Pictures of the amusing scene,

Repose from labour, satire keen,

Or faults of grammar on its page⁠—

God grant that all who herein glance,

In serious mood or dalliance

Or in a squabble to engage,

May find a crumb to satisfy.

Now we must separate. Good-bye!