.Nw.OTc4

Te doctorum Hederæ præmia fontuim To Geo Harding Esqr.

On thy blest brows fair Millers hand The myrtle wreath may place Amid the fashionable hair That shines round Tully's Vase

Me, from such high parnassian claims And folks so finely drest Me, parish duties keep, but still Sufficiently I'm blest If, now & then an ode like this not fairly worth five farthings Keeps me, my due degree, above my clerk & my church wardens And if my lyricks you endure nor treat them as waste paper Tho sixteen stone, for once I'll try Like you to cut a caper.