“ Cæsar was prematurely bare,1
Just as is honoured Rutland’s heir—2
Nor will the likeness finish there.3
But Julius at his baldness grieved,4
If history may be believed,5
And to conceal his want of hair6
Contrived the laurel wreath to wear ;7
While Granby, greater here than Cæsar,8
Whether in town or on the Weser,9
Without disguise his forehead shows10
Without concern to friend or foes.11
‘ Hold ! ’ cries Ironicus, ‘ I doubt12
You cannot fairly make it out,13
For Granby, too, his bareness pains,14
And therefore in Westphalia’s plains15
He vindicates the British quarrel16
And wreaths about his brows the laurel.’”17