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THE WAGER,
IN ANSWER TO A CHALLENGE FROM A YOUNG GENTLEMAN, IN WHICH EACH WAS TO WRITE TWENTY LINES OF POETRY, WHICH WAS TO BE SUBMITTED TO THE JUDGMENT OF FRIENDS.
A minstrel wreath I 'm called to twine,—
Come, aid me, all ye sisters nine!—
I 've twenty lines to write;
A rival holds a tempting prize,
And my poetic power defies,—
Come, gird thee for the fight!
Come, aid me, all ye sisters nine!—
I 've twenty lines to write;
A rival holds a tempting prize,
And my poetic power defies,—
Come, gird thee for the fight!
No mean opponent hast thou found,
To meet thee on Parnassian ground;
Shouldst thou the laurel gain,
To meet thee on Parnassian ground;
Shouldst thou the laurel gain,