The Translator

Ozell, at Sanger's call, invok'd his muse,
For who to sing for Sanger cou'd refuse?
His numbers such as Sanger's self might use.
Reviving Perault, murd'ring Boileau, he
Slander'd the ancients first, then Wycherley;
Not that it much the Author's Anger rais'd,
For those were slandered most, whom Ozell prais'd.
Nor had the toothless Satyr caus'd complaining,
Had not sage Rowe pronounc'd it entertaining,
How great, how just, the judgment of that writer,
Who the Plain-dealer damns, and prints the Biter!
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