At ev'ry interview their route the same,
The repetition makes attention lame,
We bustle up with unsuccessful speed,
And in the saddest part cry--droll indeed!
The path of narrative with care pursue,
Still making probability your clue,
On all the vestiges of truth attend,
And let them guide you to a decent end.
Of all ambitions man may entertain,
The worst that can invade a sickly brain,
Is that which angles hourly for surprize,
And baits its hook with prodigies and lies.
Credulous infancy or age as weak
Are fittest auditors for such to seek,
Who to please others will themselves disgrace,
Yet please not, but affront you to your face.'

In the passage above quoted, our readers will perceive that the wit is
rather aukward, [_sic_] and the verses, especially the last, very
prosaic.

Toward the end of this volume are some little pieces of a lighter kind,
which, after dragging through Mr. Cowper's long moral lectures, afforded
us some relief. The fables of the Lily and the Rose, the Nightingale and
Glow-worm, the Pine-apple and the Bee, with two or three others, are
written with ease and spirit. It is a pity that our author had not
confined himself altogether to this species of poetry, without entering
into a system of ethics, for which his genius seems but ill
adapted.--_The Critical Review_.