These cruel Critiques put me into Passion, For in their lowring Looks I reade Damnation: You expect a Satyr, and I seldom fail; When I'm first beaten, 'tis my Part to rail. You @3British@1 Fools of the old @3Trojan@1 Stock, That stand so thick one cannot miss the Flock, Poets have cause to dread a keeping Pit, When Womens Cullyes come to judge of Wit. As we strew Rats-bane when we Vermine fear, 'Twere worth our Cost to scatter Fool-bane here; And after all our judging Fops were serv'd, Dull Poets too shou'd have a Dose reserv'd, Such Reprobates as, past all Sence of Shaming, Write on, and nere are satisfy'd with Damming, Next, those, to whom the Stage does not belong Such whose Vocation onely is to Song, At most to Prologue; when for Want of Time Poets take in for Journeywork in Rhime. But I want Curses for those mighty Shoales Of scribling @3Chlorisses@1, and @3Phillis@1 Folls: Those Ophs should be restrain'd, during their Lives, From Pen and Ink, as Madmen are from Knives: I cou'd rayl on, but 'twere a Task as vain As Preaching Truth at @3Rome@1, or Wit in @3Spain@1: Yet to huff out our Play was worth my trying; @3John Lilbourn@1 scap'd his Judges by defying. If guilty, yet I'm sure oth'Churches Blessing, By suffering for the Plot, without confessing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DAY IN BED by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE PICKET-GUARD [NOVEMBER, 1861] by ETHEL LYNN BEERS CARELESS CONTENT by JOHN BYROM SATIRE: 3. TO SIR FRANCIS BRIAN by THOMAS WYATT SABBATH HYMN by SOLOMON BEN MOSES HA-LEVI ALKABEZ RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |