AN ANSWER TO SOME VERSES MADE IN HIS PRAISE by JOHN SUCKLING

THE ancient poets and their learned rhymes
We still admire in these our later times,
And celebrate their fames. Thus, though they die,
Their names can never taste mortality:
Blind Homer's muse and Virgil's stately verse,
While any live, shall never need a hearse.
Since then to these such praise was justly due
For what they did, what shall be said to you?
These had their helps: they writ of gods and kings,
Of temples, battles, and such gallant things;
But you of nothing: how could you have writ,
Had you but chose a subject to your wit?
To praise Achilles or the Trojan crew,
Show'd little art, for praise was but their due.
To say she's fair that's fair, this is no pains:
He shows himself most poet, that most feigns.
To find out virtues strangely hid in me---
Ay, there's the art and learned poetry!
To make one striding of a barbed steed,
Prancing a stately round---I use indeed
To ride Bat Jewel's jade---this is the skill,
This shows the poet wants not wit at will.
I must admire aloof, and for my part
Be well contented, since you do't with art.

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