Your News and Review, sir. I've read through and through, sir, With little admiring or blaming; The Papers are barren Of home-news or foreign, No murders or rapes worth the naming. Our friends, the Reviewers, Those chippers and hewers, Are judges of mortar and stone, sir; But of meet or unmeet, In a fabric complete, I'll boldly pronounce they are none, sir; My goose-quill too rude is To tell all your goodness Bestow'd on your servant, the Poet; Would to God I had one Like a beam of the sun, And then all the world, sir, should know it! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET ON SITTING DOWN TO READ KING LEAR ONCE AGAIN by JOHN KEATS A FATHER OF WOMEN: AD SOROREM E. B. by ALICE MEYNELL THE PRAIRIE-GRASS DIVIDING by WALT WHITMAN APRIL - AND DYING by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH THE NEW SIRENS: A PALINODE by MATTHEW ARNOLD POVERTY PARTS GUDE COMPANIE by JOANNA BAILLIE OVID TO HIS WIFE: IMITATED FROM DIFFERENT PARTS OF TRISTIA by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |