EXPECT not here a curious river fine: Our wits are short of that---alas the time! The neat refined language of the Court We know not; if we did, our country sport Must not be too ambitious; 'tis for kings, Not for their subjects, to have such rare things. Besides, though, I confess, Parnassus hardly, Yet Helicon this summer-time is dry: Our wits were at an ebb, or very low, And, to say troth, I think they cannot flow. But yet a gracious influence from you May alter nature in our brow-sick crew. Have patience then, we pray, and sit a while, And, if a laugh be too much, lend a smile. |