These @3Lyrick@1 Pieces, short, and few, Most worthy Sir, I send to you, To reade them, be not wearie: They may become JOHN HEWES his Lyre, Which oft at @3Powlsworth@1 by the fire Hath made us gravely merry. Beleeve it, he must have the Trick Of Ryming; with Invention quick, That should doe @3Lyricks@1 well: But now I have done in this kind, Though in my selfe I cannot find, Your Judgement best can tell. Th'old @3British@1 BARDS, upon their Harpes, For falling Flatts, and rising Sharpes, That curiously were strung; To stirre their Youth to Warlike Rage, Or their wyld Furie to asswage, In these loose Numbers sung. No more I for Fooles Censures passe, Then for the braying of an Asse, Nor once mine Eare will lend them: If you but please to take in gree These @3Odes@1, sufficient 'tis to mee; Your liking can commend them. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SCARLET TANAGER by JOEL BENTON THE TEARS OF THE POPLARS by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS POPPY: FANTASTIC EXTRAVAGANCE by FRANCIS THOMPSON SONG: 6 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD CHERRY TREE IN AUTUMN by MARIE DAVIES WARREN BECKNER THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY by BERNARD OF CLUNY PSALM 6. DOMINE NE IN FURORE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |