1. UNhurt, untoucht, did I complain; And terrifi'd all others with the pain: But now I feel the mighty evill; Ah, there's no fooling with the Devill! So wanton Men, whilst others they would fright, Themselves have met a real Spright. 2. I thought, I'll swear, an handsome ly Had been no sinne at all in Poetry: But now I suffer an Arrest, For words were spoke by me in jest. Dull, sottish God of Love, and can it be Thou understand'st not Raillerie? 3. Darts, and Wounds, and Flame, and Heat, I nam'd but for the Rhyme, or the Conceit. Nor meant my verse should raised be, To this sad fame of Prophesie; Truth gives a Dull Propriety to my stile, And all the Metaphors does spoile. 4. In things, where Fancy much does reigne 'Tis dangerous too cunningly to feigne: The Play at last a Truth does grow, And Custome into Nature goe. By this curst art of begging I became Lame, with counterfeiting Lame. 5. My Lines of amorous desire I wrote to kindle and blow others' fire: And 'twas a barbarous delight My Fancy promised from the sight; But now, by Love, the mighty Phalaris, I My burning Bull the first doe try. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 46 by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN A BOY'S SUMMER SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A CHRISTMAS FOLKSONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE BOATMAN by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AFTER THE SOIREE by F. R. D. B. THE EVE OF BANNOCKBURN by JOHN BARBOUR |