Dear Dick, prithee tell by what passion you move? The world is in doubt, whether hatred or love; And, while at good Cashel you rail with such spite, They shrewdly suspect it is all but a bite. You certainly know, though so loudly you vapour, His spite cannot wound, who attempted the Drapier. Then, prithee reflect, take a word of advice; And, as your old wont is, change sides in a trice: On his virtues hold forth; 'tis the very best way; And say of the man what all honest men say. But if, still obdurate, your anger remains, If still your foul bosom more rancour contains; Say then more than they; nay, lavishly flatter, 'Tis your gross panegyrics alone can bespatter. For thine, my dear Dick, give me leave to speak plain, Like a very foul mop, dirty more than they clean. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LITTLE FEET by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN SUMMER LONGINGS by DENIS FLORENCE MCCARTHY IF THE POETS HAD FEARED THE ADVERTISERS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS LINES TO MR. WYNCH ON HIS FORTH-FIFTH BIRTHDAY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD ON A PRESSED FLOWER IN MY CPOY OF KEATS by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE THE LADY TO HER GUITAR by EMILY JANE BRONTE OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 13. TROCHAIC VERSE: THE NINETH EPIGRAM by THOMAS CAMPION TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. SUNDAY MORNING AFTER CHURCH by EDWARD CARPENTER |