THE ROSCIAD.
13
Doth a man stutter, look a-squint, or halt;
Mimics draw humour out of Nature's fault:
With personal defects their mirth adorn,
And hang misfortunes out to public scorn. 280
E'en I, whom Nature cast in hideous mould,
Whom having made, she trembled to behold,
Beneath the load of mimicry may groan,
And find that Nature's errors are my own.
Mimics draw humour out of Nature's fault:
With personal defects their mirth adorn,
And hang misfortunes out to public scorn. 280
E'en I, whom Nature cast in hideous mould,
Whom having made, she trembled to behold,
Beneath the load of mimicry may groan,
And find that Nature's errors are my own.
Shadows behind of F—te and W—d———d came; 285
W—k—s–n this, Ob–i–n was that name.
Strange to relate, but wonderfully true,
That even shadows have their shadows too!
With not a single comic pow'r endued,
The first, a mere mere mimic's mimic stood. 290
The last, by Nature form'd to please, who shews,
In Johnson's Stephen, which way Genius grows;
Self quite put off, affects, with too much art,
To put on Woodward in each mangled part;
Adopts his shrug, his wink, his stare; nay more, 295
His voice, and croaks; for Woodward croak'd before.
Thus the dull copyer simple grace neglects,
And rests his Imitation in———Defects.
W—k—s–n this, Ob–i–n was that name.
Strange to relate, but wonderfully true,
That even shadows have their shadows too!
With not a single comic pow'r endued,
The first, a mere mere mimic's mimic stood. 290
The last, by Nature form'd to please, who shews,
In Johnson's Stephen, which way Genius grows;
Self quite put off, affects, with too much art,
To put on Woodward in each mangled part;
Adopts his shrug, his wink, his stare; nay more, 295
His voice, and croaks; for Woodward croak'd before.
Thus the dull copyer simple grace neglects,
And rests his Imitation in———Defects.
Arms cross'd, brows bent, eyes fix'd, feet marching slow,
A band of malcontents with spleen o'erflow; 300
A band of malcontents with spleen o'erflow; 300
"Con-
