Lines, Written under the Promise of Reward (Written in her thirteenth year.) Whene'er the muse pleases to grace my dull page, At the sight of reward , she flies off in a rage; Prayers, threats, and entreaties I frequently try, But she leaves me to scribble, to fret, and to sigh. She torments me each moment, and bids me go write. And when I obey her, she laughs at the sight; The rhyme will not jingle, the verse has no sense, And against all her insults I have no defence. I advise all my friends, who wish me to write, To keep their rewards and their praises from sight; So that jealous Miss Muse won't be wounded in pride, Nor Pegasus rear, till I've taken my ride. |
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