A male Horace Walpole

Here lies the peerless paper lord, Lord Peter, Who broke the laws of God and man, and metre.

Barring drink and the girls, I ne'er heard of a sin – Many worse, better few, than bright, broken Maginn.

It is an old belief That on some solemn shore Beyond the sphere of grief Dear friends shall meet once more.

It is a better and a wiser thing to be a starved apothecary than a starved poet; so back to the shop Mr. John, back to "plasters, pills, and ointment boxes," &c. But, for Heaven's sake, young Sangrado, be a little more sparing of …

It is strange that no one seems to think it at all necessary to say a single word about another new school of poetry which has of late sprung up among us. This school has not, I believe, as yet received any name; but if I may be permitted …

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.