Let 'em Censure; what care I? The Herd of Criticks I defie. Let the Wretches know, I write Regardless of their Grace, or Spight. No, no: the Fair, the Gay, the Young Govern the Numbers of my Song. All that They approve is sweet: And All is Sense, that They repeat. Bid the warbling Nine retire: Venus, String thy Servant's Lyre: Love shall be my endless Theme: Pleasure shall triumph over Fame: And when these Maxims I decline, Apollo, may Thy Fate be Mine: May I grasp at empty Praise; And lose the Nymph, to gain the Bays. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROTHER AND SISTER by MARY ANN EVANS EPITHALAMIUM by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN MOLLY PITCHER [JUNE 28, 1778] by KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD SHEEP AND LAMBS by KATHARINE TYNAN PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 89, 90. MU'HTI, MANI'H by EDWIN ARNOLD THE NEW WORLD; TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES by LAURENCE BINYON |