AN
EXTEMPORARY
ACROSTIC
.
MY
Muse
,
once
more
,
thy
aid
I
humbly
claim
;
Refuse
not
now
to
grace
my
rustic
lays
.
Johnston
or
Pope
might
well
befit
the
theme
Or
Grecian
bards
,
who
ever
merit
praise
.
How
dares
my
humble
hand
assume
so
high
?
No
common
character
inspires
my
song
,
His
growing
fame
long
since
has
reach'd
the
sky
:
All
I
can
say
but
does
his
virtues
wrong
;
Let
then
my
blund'ring
pen
in
silence
rest
;
Lo
,
silent
admiration
paints
them
best
.