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Rogero-Mastir

A rod for William Rogers, in return for his Riming Scourge, &c. By Thomas Ellwood

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Them therefore leaving, I return again,
To view Will. Rogers his Poetick strain;
Who having been too often foil'd in Prose,
To try his Fortain, now in Verse hath chose;
If Verse, without Offence, that may be call'd,
Which is delivered in Rhimes so bald,
So flat, so dull, so rough, so void of Grace,
Where Symphony and Cadence have no place;
So full of Chasmes, stuck with Prosie Pegs,
Whereon his Tired Muse might rest her Legs,

8

(Not having Wings) and take new breath, that then
She might, with much a-doe, hop on agen.
His [

P 11.

Words to that effect,—

p 3. 11. 16.

Why so?

p. 9. 17

How so?

p. 5.

Hence I observe,—

p. 20.

Hence I conclude—] do show,

His Pursy Muse was often out of Wind,
And glad when she a perching place could find.