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!