THE printer's haste calls on; I must not drive My time past six, though I begin at five. One hour I have entire; and 'tis enough. Here are no gipsy jigs, no drumming stuff, Dances, or other trumpery to delight, Or take, by common way, the common sight. The author of this poem, as he dares To stand the austerest censure, so he cares As little what it is. His own best way Is to be judge and author of his play. It is his knowledge makes him thus secure; Nor does he write to please, but to endure. And, reader, if you have disburs'd a shilling To see this worthy story, and are willingTo have a large increase; if rul'd by me, You may a merchant and a poet be. 'Tis granted for your twelvepence you did sit, And see, and hear, and understand not yet. The author, in a Christian pity, takes Care of your good, and prints it for your sakes. That such as will but venter sixpence more May know what they but saw and heard before; 'Twill not be money lost, if you can read, (There's all the doubt now) but your gains exceed, If you can understand, and you are made Free of the freest and the noblest trade. And in the way of poetry, now-a-days, Of all that are call'd works, the best are plays. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAMOMILE TEA by KATHERINE MANSFIELD ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY BEFORE BANNOCKBURN by ROBERT BURNS ARIZONA POEMS: 4. THE WINDMILLS by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER THE SIFTING OF PETER by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW HOME, SWEET HOME, FR. CLARI, THE MAID OF MILAN by JOHN HOWARD PAYNE THE FISHER'S BOY by HENRY DAVID THOREAU NOT DEAD, BUT GONE BEFORE by ANTIPHANES |