'_Pindar,_' we say, ''twill leave thee now.'
But O! old Dulness' son anointed
His mother never disappointed!--
And here we all were left to seek
A dimple in F-rd-ce's cheek!

"And could you really discover,
In gazing those sweet beauties over,
No other charm, no winning grace,
Adorning either mind or face,
But one poor _dimple_ to express
The _quintessence_ of _loveliness_?
....Mark'd you her cheek of rosy hue?
Mark'd you her eye of sparkling blue?
That eye in liquid circles moving;
That cheek abash'd at Man's approving;
The _one_, Love's arrows darting round;
The _other_, blushing at the wound:
Did she not speak, did she not move,
Now _Pallas_--now the Queen of Love!"

There is little else in this poem worth being extracted, though it
consists of about four hundred lines; except, perhaps, his picture of a
good country housewife, which affords an early specimen of that neat
pointedness of phrase, which gave his humor, both poetic and dramatic,
such a peculiar edge and polish:--

"We see the Dame, in rustic pride,
A bunch of keys to grace her side,
Stalking across the well-swept entry,