text:  See see our own true Phoebus wears the bays! Our Midas sit Lord Chancellor of plays! On poets' tombs see Benson's titles writ! Lo! Ambrose Philips is preferr'd for wit! See under Ripley rise a new Whitehall While Jones' and Boyle's united labours fall: While Wren with sorrow to the grave descends Gay dies unpension'd with a hundred friends; Hibernian politics O Swift! thy fate; And Pope's ten years to comment and translate