The acts which dignify the day,
He thought portended its decay;
Nay, fear'd 'twould show a falling State,
If Sternhold should give way to Tate;
The Church's ruin he predicted,
Were modern times not interdicted;
He scorn'd them all, but crown'd with palm
The man who set the Hundredth Psalm.
(Miss More does not seem to be aware how justly he might do so.)
When Florio comes down to stay with this worthy Tory,
Six bays unconscious of their weight,
Soon lodged him at Sir Gilbert's gate;
His trusty Swiss, who flew still faster,
Announced th' arrival of their master.
In reply to the hospitable greeting,
Florio uttered
Half sentences, or rather muttered
Disjointed words, as honour, pleasure!
Kind, vastly good, Ma'am! beyond measure!
Tame expletives, with which dull fashion
Fills vacancies of sense and passion.
He finds the country very dull, and tries in vain the library:—
This book was dull and that was wise,
And this was monstrous as to size.
He turns over—
Whate'er look'd small, whate'er looked new,
Half-bound, or stitched in pink or blue;
and finally—
He lays the book upon the shelf,
And leaves the day to spend itself.
