Category: Poetry
Were I, who to my Cost already am, One of those strange, prodigious Creatures _Man_, A Spirit free, to chuse for my own Share, } What Sort of Flesh and Blood I pleas'd to wear, } I'd be a Dog, a Monkey, or a Bear; } Or any thing, but that vain Animal, Who is so proud of being...
I hear this Town does so abound With saucy Censurers, that Faults are found With what of late we (in poetick Rage) Bestowing threw away on the dull Age. But (howsoe'er Envy thei...
2. Part 2Well, Sir, 'tis granted, I said _Dryden_'s Rhimes Were stoll'n, unequal, nay, dull many Times: What foolish Patron is there found of his So blindly partial to deny me this? But...
1. Part 1Were I, who to my Cost already am, One of those strange, prodigious Creatures _Man_, A Spirit free, to chuse for my own Share, } What Sort of Flesh and Blood I pleas'd to wear,...
4. Part 4But if this Murder you'd forego, Your Slave from Death removing; Let me your Art of Charming know, Or learn you mine of loving. But whether Life, or Death, betide, In Love it's...