METHINKS, oh, vain ill-judging book!
I see thee cast a wishful look,
Where reputations won and lost are
In famous row called Paternoster.
Incensed to find your precious olio
Buried in unexplor'd port-folio,
You scorn the prudent lock and key;
And pant, well bound and gilt, to see
Your volume in the window set
Of Stockdale, Hookham, or Debrett.