Written in Ridicule of Certain Poems
{of Thomas Warton} Published in 1777.
Wheresoe'er I turn my view,
All is strange, yet nothing new;
Endless labour all along,
Endless labour to be wrong;
Phrase that time has flung away,
Uncouth words in disarray,
Trick'd in antique ruff and bonnet,
Ode, and elegy, and sonnet.
More verses by Samuel Johnson
- Autumn
- A Short Song Of Congratulation
- One And Twenty
- On The Death Of Mr. Robert Levet, A Practiser In Physic
- On The Death Of Stephen Grey, F.R.S.