Argyle his Praise, when Southerne wrote, First struck out this, and then that Thought; Said this was Flatt'ry, that a Fault. How shall your Bard contrive? My Lord, consider what you do, He'll lose his Pains and Verses too; For if these Praises fit not You, They'll fit no Man alive. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SHPEHERD'S HOUR by PAUL VERLAINE A POET'S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER by ROBERT BURNS TO MOSCOW by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR IN THE OLD SOUTH CHURCH; 1677 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE BUTTERFLY by MARGARET AVISON THE SCHOLAR OF HIS OWN PUPIL; THIRD IDYLLIUM by BION |