Kelway’s Sonatas who can bear?
“They want both harmony and air;
Heavy they make the Player’s hand
And who their tricks can understand?
Kelway to the profound G[iardini]
Or B[ach] compared, is but a Ninny,
A Dotard old (the Moderns tell ye)
Mad after Handel and Corelli,
Spoilt by original disaster,
For Geminiani was his Master,
And taught him, in his nature’s ground
To gape for Sense, as well as sound.”
’Tis thus the Leaders of our nation,
Smit with the Music now in fashion,
Their absolute decisions deal,
And from the Chair Infallible,
And praise the fine, Italian Taste,
Too fine, too exquisite to last.
Let Midas judge, and what will follow?
A whis[t]ling Pan excels Apollo,
A Bag-pipe’s sweeter than an Organ,
A Sowgelder surpasses Worgan
And Kelway at the foot appears
Of Connoiseurs — with Asses ears!