Parnassi Puerperium or, Some Well-wishes to ingenuity, in the Translation of Six Hundred, of Owen's Epigrams; Martial de Spectaculis, or of Rarities to be seen in Rome; and the most Select, in Sir Tho. More... |
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10. To a certain old Barrister.
Grave Monsieur Plowden, elected a time,To tell my Father, Law's not writ in Rythme.
Ergo I must the two-topt Mount defie,
And give my Vale unto Poetry.
Were not thy skin good Buffe; my Muse should send
The Long-nail'd Furies; which thy soul should rend.
I have fierce Satyrs, that can assault Hell:
Dash out Medæas Brains, in spight of spell.
Reclaim an unback'd Impudence. Make Bleed,
A Rock: And stab the fell Medusa's Head.
And dares thy empty Skull, bandy at Me?
Lord Paramount of gross Stupidity!
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