To tell ye, gentlemen, we have a play, A new one too, and that 'tis launched to-day,— The name ye know, that's nothing to my story;— To tell ye, 'tis familiar, void of glory, Of state, of bitterness—of wit, you'll say, For that is now held wit that tends that way, Which we avoid;—to tell ye too, 'tis merry, And meant to make ye pleasant, and not weary; The stream that guides ye, easy to attend; To tell ye that 'tis good, is to no end, If you believe not; nay, to go thus far, To swear it, if you swear against, is war: To assure you any thing, unless you see, And so conceive, is vanity in me; Therefore I leave it to itself; and pray, Like a good bark, it may work out to-day, And stem all doubts; 'twas built for such a proof, And we hope highly: if she lie aloof For her own vantage, to give wind at will, Why, let her work, only be you but still And sweet-opinioned; and we are bound to say, You are worthy judges, and you crown the play. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FORERUNNERS by GEORGE HERBERT LOVERS HOW THEY COME AND PART by ROBERT HERRICK ANIMAL CRACKERS by CHRISTOPHER DARLINGTON MORLEY MY MOTHER by WILLIAM BELL SCOTT PREFATORY POEM TO MY BROTHER'S SONNETS by ALFRED TENNYSON THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON ORANGE BUDS BY MAIL FROM FLORIDA by WALT WHITMAN |