Sonnet LXXVI: The Critics of Doctor Johnson's School

Lo! modern Critics emulously dare
Ape the great Despot; throw in pompous tone
And massy words their true no meaning down!
But while their envious eyes on Genius glare,
While axioms false assiduously they square
In arrogant antithesis, a frown
Lours on the brow of Justice, to disown
The kindred malice with its mimic air.
Spirit of Common Sense! must we endure
The incrustation hard without the gem?
Find in th' Anana's rind the wilding sour,
The Oak's rough knots on every Osier's stem?
The dark contortions of the Sybil bear,
Whose inspirations never meet our ear?