That darling of the Tragic Muse,
       &nbspWhen Wrangham sung her praise,
Thalia lost her rosy hues,
       &nbspAnd sicken'd at her lays:

But transient was th' unwonted sigh;
       &nbspFor soon the Goddess spied
A sister-form of mirthful eye,
       &nbspAnd danc'd for joy and cried:

'Meek Pity's sweetest child, proud dame,
       &nbspThe fates have given to you!
Still bid your Poet boast her name;
       &nbspI have my Brunton too.'