On a Certain Musician's Turning Poet

In vain of late did Dr. B — n,
Amuse awhile the gaping town,
With Poetry and Musick:
King David, in the cure of Saul,
So hideously did squeak and squall,
It would have made a Jew sick.

But see at length both arts, in one,
By great Apollo's favourite son,
Most happily united.
Harmoniously the fiddlers play;
But, heard you what the singers say,
You'd surely be delighted!

Split, then, your goose-quills, bards, or learn
His two-fold art from Dr. A—;
Go, and compose Sonatas;
Or soon, I'll hold ye seven to six,
Tenducci with old fiddle-sticks
Will scrawl his own Cantatas.