WERE you but half so wise as you're severe, Our youthfull Poet shou'd not need to fear; To his green years your Censures you would suit, Not blast the Blossom, but expect the Fruit. The Sex that best does pleasure understand Will alwayes chuse to err on t'other hand. They check not him that's aukard in delight, But clap the young Rogues Cheek, and set him right. Thus heartn'd well, and flesh't upon his Prey, The youth may prove a man another day. Your @3Ben@1 and @3Fletcher@1, in their first young flight, Did no @3Volpone@1, no @3Arbaces@1 write; But hopp'd about, and short Excursions made From Bough to Bough, as if they were afraid, And each were guilty of some @3Slighted Maid.@1 @3Shakespear's@1 own Muse her @3Pericles@1 first bore; The Prince of @3Tyre@1 was elder than the @3Moore.@1 'Tis miracle to see a first good Play; All Hawthorns do not bloom on @3Christmasday@1. A slender Poet must have time to grow, 20 And spread and burnish as his Brothers do. Who still looks lean, sure with some @3pox@1 is curst, But no Man can be @3Falstaff@1-fat at first, Then damn not, but indulge his stew'd Essays, Encourage him, and bloat him up with Praise, That he may get more bulk before he dies, He's not yet fed enough for Sacrifice. Perhaps, if now your Grace you will not grudge, He may grow up to write, and you to judge. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A RED, RED ROSE by ROBERT BURNS A BROKEN APPOINTMENT by THOMAS HARDY AN EPITAPH ON A DUTCH CAPTAIN by PHILIP AYRES THE IMMOLATION by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN IN WAR-TIME (AN AMERICAN HOMEWARD-BOUND) by FLORENCE EARLE COATES ODE OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF MR. THOMSON by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) |