Hail! Thou whose great aspiring soul
Can range, no doubt, from pole to pole,
Creation's ample house,
Yet deigns to memorate the name,
And roll in the records of Fame,
Thy bosom foe a—Louse.

Transporting Bard! how didst thou light
On such a Tale to fire thy flight,
Such beauties to express?
How cou'dst thou, to our raptur'd view,
Discover such a scene? so new!—
Forgive me if I guess.

Perhaps in some dark, dirty den,
Long had'st thou pin'd, and chew'd thy pen,
When (wond'rous inspiration!)
The gray inhabitants of hair,
That itch'd thee ceaseless here-and-there,
Claim'd all thy contemplation.

Impatient to be found in verse,
Around thy hulk, thick-throng'd and fierce,
The restless creatures hurry'd,
Till thou for want of nobler theme
Was forc'd t' immortalize their name,
On pain of being worry'd.