← Household words, No. 2, April 6, 1850

Good Verses of a Bad Poet

Few things in Dryden or Pope are finer than these lines by a man whom they both continually laughed at;—Sir Richard Blackmore.

Exhausted travellers, that have undergone
The scorching heats of Life’s intemperate zone,
Haste for refreshment to their beds beneath,
And stretch themselves in the cool shades of Death.