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George Gordon Byron - To Lord Thurlow
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`I lay my branch of laurel down. 
Then thus to form Apollo`s crown. 
Let every other bring his own.`~Lord Thurlow`s lines to Mr. Rogers


  `I lay my branch of laurel down.`
Thou `lay thy branch of laurel down!`
  Why, what thou`st stole is not enow;
And, were it lawfully thine own,
  Does Rogers want it most, or thou?
Keep to thyself thy wither`d bough, 
  Or send it back to Doctor Donne:
Were justice done to both, I trow,
  He`d have but little, and thou--none.
 
  `Then thus to form Apollo`s crown.`
A crown! why, twist it how you will,
    Thy chaplet must be foolscap still. 
When next you visit Delphi`s town,
  Inquire amongst your fellow-lodgers,
They`ll tell you Phoebus gave his crown,
  Some years before your birth, to Rogers.
 
   `Let every other bring his own.`
When coals to Newcastle are carried,
  And owls sent to Athens, as wonders,
From his spouse when the R egent`s un­married, 
  Or Liverpool weeps o`er his blunders;
When Tories and Whigs cease to quarrel,
  When Castlereagh`s wife has an heir,
Then Rogers shall ask us for laurel,
  And thou shalt have plenty to spare.
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