In paper case, hard by this place, Dead a poor dormouse lies; And soon or late, summon'd by fate, Each prince, each monarch dies. Ye sons of verse, while we rehearse, Attend instructive rhyme; No sins had Dor to answer for: Repent of yours in time.
In paper case, hard by this place, Dead a poor dormouse lies; And soon or late, summon'd by fate, Each prince, each monarch dies. Ye sons of verse, while we rehearse, Attend instructive rhyme; No sins had Dor to answer for: Repent of yours in time.