How shall we please this age? If in a song We put above six lines, they count it long; If we contract it to an epigram, As deep the dwarfish poetry they damn; If we write plays, few see above an act, And those lewd masks, or noisy fops, distract: Let us write satire then, and at our ease Vex th'ill-natur'd fools we cannot please. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 15 by CONRAD AIKEN OUR LORD AND OUR LADY by HILAIRE BELLOC CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS MOMENT by HAYDEN CARRUTH AGAINST THE REST OF THE YEAR by JAMES GALVIN OLD MEN ON THE COURTHOUSE LAWN, MURRAY, KENTUCKY by JAMES GALVIN |