And had Columbus heard his roar,

When first he landed on this shore,

He would have turn'd his bark amain,

And never ventured here again;

Impress'd that, in this western world,

There was, from Pandemonium hurl'd,

Some spirit damn'd for e'er to bark

The hideous songs of hideous Park.—

The owls and bats that curse the land,

Could they but hear and understand

The wretched rhymes and nauseous stuff

Of this conceited, vile ruff-skuff,

Would, surely, leave their secret haunts,

And ever cease their nightly chants;

Convinced that they have been, at last,

In frightful strains, by Park surpast;

[Pg 11]

And that this vagrant of the muse,

Foul caterer for sinks and stews,—

The Five-Points' poet, has outdone

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