The last remains of Sr John Suckling Being a Full collection Of all his Poems and Letters which have been so long expected, and never till now Published, with The Licence and Approbation of his Noble and Dearest friends |
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An Answer to some Verses made in his praise.
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 | The last remains of Sr John Suckling |  |
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An Answer to some Verses made in his praise.
The antient Poets, and their learned rimes,We still admire in these our later times,
And celebrate their fames: Thus though they die,
Their names can never taste mortalitie:
Blind Homer's Muse, and Virgil's stately Verse,
While any live, shall never need a herse.
Since then to these such praise was justly due
For what they did, what shall be said to you?
These had their helps; they writ of Gods and Kings,
Of Temples, Battels, and such gallant things:
But you of Nothing; how could you have writ,
Had you but chose a Subject to your Wit?
To praise Achilles, or the Trojan crew,
Shewed little art, for praise was but their due.
To say she's fair that's fair, this is no pains:
He shews himself most Poet, that most feigns:
To find out vertues strangely hid in me;
I, there's the art and learned Poetrie,
To make one striding of a Barbed Steed,
Prancing a stately round: I use indeed
To ride Bat Jewels Jade; this is the skill,
This shews the Poet wants not wit at will.
I must admire aloof, and for my part
Be well contented, since you do't with art.
I. S.
| The last remains of Sr John Suckling | |