On the Edition of Mr. Popes Works with a Commentary and Notes by Thomas Edwards Lyrics

In evil hour did Pope's declining age,
Deceived and dazzled by the tinsel show
Of wordy science and the nauseous flow
Of mean, officious flatteries, engage
Thy venal quill to deck his laboured page
With ribald nonsense, and permit to strew
Amidst his flowers, the baleful weeds that grow
In the unblessed soil of rude and rancorous rage.
Yet this the avenging muse ordainéd so,
When, by his counsel or weak sufferance,
To thee were trusted Shakespeare's fame and fate:
She doomed him down the stream of time to tow
Thy foul, dirt-loaded hulk, or sink perchance,
Dragged to oblivion by the foundering weight.