E F E T M（1 / 2）

epistle fro ep to aria

fro those drear litudes and frowsy cells,

where fay with sad repentance dwells;

where turnkeys ake the jealo portal fast,

and deal fro iron hands the spare repast;

where truant &039;prentices, yet young s,

bsh at the curio stranr peepg ;

where strupets, relics of the drunken roar,

relve to drk, nay, half, to whore, no ore;

where ty thieves not dest&039;d yet to sg,

beat hep for others, riper for the strg:

fro these dire scenes y wretched les i date,

to tell aria her ep&039; fate

“as! i feel i a no actor here!”

&039;tis real hangn real surs bear!

prepare aria, for a horrid tale

will turn thy very rou to deadly pale;

will ake thy hair, tho&039; erst fro gipsy poll&039;d,

by barber woven, and by barber ld,

though isted sooth with harry&039;s nicest care,

like hoary bristles to erect and stare

the hero of the iic scene, no ore

i start halet, othello roar;

or, haughty chiefta, &039;id the d of ars

highnd bon, woo alva&039;s chars;

while sans-culottes stoop up the ounta high,

and steal fro aria&039;s pryg eye

blest highnd bon! once y proudest dress,

now prouder still, aria&039;s teples press;

i see her wave thy towerg ps afar,

and call each xb to the wordy war:

i see her face the first of irend&039;s ns,

and even out-irish his hibernian bronze;

the crafty lonel leaves the tartan&039;d les,

for other wars, where he a hero shes:

the hopeful youth, sttish senate bred,

who owns a bhby&039;s heart without the head,

es &039;id a strg of xbs, to dispy

that veni, vidi, vici, is his way:

the shrkg bard adown the alley skulks,

and dreads a etg worse than woolwich hulks:

though there, his heresies church and state

ight well award hi uir and palr&039;s fate: