Poems on Several Occasions By Mary Masters |
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To a Gentleman who questioned my being the Author of the foregoing Verses.
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
To a Gentleman who questioned my being the Author of the foregoing Verses.
Sir, 'tis allow'd, as it has oft been said,Poets are only Born and never Made.
Where Nature does her friendly Warmth exert,
A Genius may supply the Pedant's Art.
Hence 'tis, that I, unletter'd Maid, pretend
To paraphrase a Psalm, or praise a Friend;
Wholly unpractis'd in the learned Rules,
And arduous Precepts of the noisy Schools;
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Prompted by her, I sing of various Things,
A flow'ry Meadow, or a purling Stream,
And Notes that differ with the diff'ring Theme.
But still the Poem, howsoe'er design'd,
Is a true Picture of the Author's Mind.
Whate'er I write, whatever I impart,
Is simple Nature unimprov'd by Art.
Search but those Strains, you think so much excel,
Scan ev'ry Verse, and try the Numbers well:
You'll plainly see, in almost ev'ry Line,
Distinguishing Defects to prove them Mine.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |