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 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
But what is it that Poets cannot do,
Caress'd by Us, and so extol'd by You?
T' encourage MERIT nobly you disdain,
It is pedantick, and below your Vein:
And faith, to tell the Truth, We love our Gain.
As with the Saints, so 'tis, we find, with You,
For here, alas! th'Elect are very few,
And those without your Reason, by your Will sav'd too.
The less of proper Merit they can boast,
The more secure they are from being lost.
Caress'd by Us, and so extol'd by You?
T' encourage MERIT nobly you disdain,
It is pedantick, and below your Vein:
And faith, to tell the Truth, We love our Gain.
As with the Saints, so 'tis, we find, with You,
For here, alas! th'Elect are very few,
And those without your Reason, by your Will sav'd too.
The less of proper Merit they can boast,
The more secure they are from being lost.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |