John Wolcot. 1738-1819

What rage for fame attends both great and small!

Better be damned than mentioned not at all.

To the Royal Academicians.

No, let the monarch's bags and others hold

The flattering, mighty, nay, al-mighty gold.[431:3]

To Kien Long. Ode iv.

Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt,

And every grin so merry draws one out.

Expostulatory Odes. Ode xv.

A fellow in a market town,

Most musical, cried razors up and down.

Farewell Odes. Ode iii.