 | The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts |  |
[Madam how great and good your Vertues are]
Madam
how great and good your Vertues are,
I can't well tell, nor truly do I care;
Nor can that Wit which you from Plays have stole,
Admired be by any but a Fool;
Who may perhaps thro' his weak Judgment own
That you have Sense, 'cause he himself has none;
Believe I no such wrong Opinion hold,
I can discern false Metal from true Gold.
Your Ill-tim'd Jests, so sharp in your Conceit,
Are spoil'd, for want of Judgment to Repeat;
Like an Unskilful Play'r, who Lames each Line,
Which by the Poet Read or Spoke, is fine.
I can't well tell, nor truly do I care;
Nor can that Wit which you from Plays have stole,
Admired be by any but a Fool;
20
That you have Sense, 'cause he himself has none;
Believe I no such wrong Opinion hold,
I can discern false Metal from true Gold.
Your Ill-tim'd Jests, so sharp in your Conceit,
Are spoil'd, for want of Judgment to Repeat;
Like an Unskilful Play'r, who Lames each Line,
Which by the Poet Read or Spoke, is fine.
If you have Wit, which you can boast your own,
Let it in some Return to this be shown;
Or I (Proud Lady Fair) shall justly think you've none.
Let it in some Return to this be shown;
Or I (Proud Lady Fair) shall justly think you've none.
| The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts | |