Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO HIS DEAR FRIEND THOMAS RANDOLPH, ON HIS COMEDY 'THE JEALOUS LOVERS', by RICHARD BENEFIELD



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TO HIS DEAR FRIEND THOMAS RANDOLPH, ON HIS COMEDY 'THE JEALOUS LOVERS', by            
First Line: Friend, I must grieve your poems injur'd be
Last Line: Yet you are jealous still of your own wit.
Subject(s): Plays & Playwrights ; Randolph, Thomas (1605-1634); Dramatists


FRIEND, I must grieve your poems injur'd be
By that rare vice in poets, modesty.
If you dislike the issues of your pen,
You have invention, but no judgment then.
You able are to write, but'tis as true,
Those that were there can judge as well as you.
You only think your gold adulterate,
When every scale of judgment finds it weight,
And every touchstone perfect. This I'll say,
You contradict the name of your own play.
You are no lover of the lines you writ,
Yet you are jealous still of your own wit.





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