Impromptu Lines To Captain Riddell

On Returning a Newspaper.

     Your News and Review, sir.
     I've read through and through, sir,
     With little admiring or blaming;
     The Papers are barren
     Of home-news or foreign,
     No murders or rapes worth the naming.

     Our friends, the Reviewers,
     Those chippers and hewers,
     Are judges of mortar and stone, sir;
     But of meet or unmeet,
     In a fabric complete,
     I'll boldly pronounce they are none, sir;

     My goose-quill too rude is
     To tell all your goodness
     Bestow'd on your servant, the Poet;
     Would to God I had one
     Like a beam of the sun,
     And then all the world, sir, should know it!