Classic Poem

Dear Frank , with Fancy, Fire, and Style,
Form'd a consummate Poet,
Burns with Impatience all the while,
That all the World should know it.

Where'er he goes, with pompous Boast
His Talent he displays;
No, not a Tittle shall be lost
Of his minutest Praise.

Then let's be candid to our Friend,
And own his just Pretence;
Nor yet, whilst we his Wit commend,
Despise his Want of Sense.