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on my committing to Paper as soon as we arose — so if you are pestered with the Phantasies of a sick Poet you find you are chiefly to thank his wife for them they will shew you however that I think both of you & yr Poetry at all seasons.

After this Preface almost as long as the Production itself behold the

Nocturnal Impromptu

That Eyes have Fire, I've often heard,
& yours, my dear, confirm the Word;
But now I learn, with much surprize,
That Fires can spread their Thousand Eyes,
dear Muse! yr lofty modes of Speech
My groveling Fancy cannot reach;
Your Phrase however may be good,
altho by dolts not understood;
The Eagle can enjoy that Light,
Which robs the moping Owl of Sight.
defend your Language as you may,
You will allow me Leave to say