Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry
ignis fatuus matter,
such as the slightest breath of air might scatter;
with arch-acrity and scious glee,
(nature may have her whim as well as we,
her hogarth-art perhaps she meant to show it),
she forms the thing and christens it—a poet:
creature, tho' oft the prey of care and sorrow,
wheo-day, unmindful of to-morrow;
a being form'd t' amuse his graver friends,
admir'd and prais'd—and there the homage ends;
a mortal quite unfit for fortune's strife,
yet oft the sport of all the ills of life;
proo enjoy each pleasure riches give,
yet
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