At least as little honest as he cou'd,
And, like white witches, mischievously good.
To this first bias, longingly, he leans;
And rather would be great by wicked means.
The Threnodia, which, by a term I am afraid neither authorized nor analogical, he calls Augustalis, is not amongst his happiest produćtions. Its first and obvious defect is the irregularity of its metre, to which the ears of that age, however, were accustomed. What is worse, it has neither tenderness nor dignity, it is neither magnificent nor pathetic. He seems to look round him for images which he cannot find, and what he has he distorts by endeavouring to enlarge them. "He is," he says, "petrified with grief," but the marble sometimes relents, and trickles in a joke.
The sons of art all med'cines try'd,
And every noble remedy apply'd;
With emulation each essay'd
His utmost skill; nay, more, they pray'd:
Was never losing game with better conduct play'd.
He had been a little inclined to merriment before, upon the prayers of a nation
