Note 132 — Chapter VII
Reading edition
In Tom Moore’s satirical squib, entitled “Tom Cribb’s Memorial to Congress” (p. 38), he thus ironically glances at Gregson’s pugilistic laureateship:—
“A pause ensued—till cries of ‘Gregson’
Brought Bob, the poet, on his legs soon—
(My eyes, how prettily Bob writes!
Talk of your Camels, Hogs, and Crabs,
And twenty more such Pidcock frights—
Bob’s worth a hundred of these dabs:
For a short turn-up at a sonnet,
A round of odes, or pastoral bout,
All Lombard Street to nine-pence on it,
Bobby’s the boy would clean them out!)”