ODE II
[How much a verse deceives]
1
How much a verse deceives
Vnhappie man! who weaves
His hopes vpon it?
Thinking to gaine a grace
From some light wanton's face,
With lighter Sonnet;
His Thoughts, his Hope, his Fate hang all vpon it.
2
To Titles, or great Name,
One brings an Epigram,
Yet scarce knowes why;
Another, comes too late,
Deploreing humane ffate,
In Elegie;
Praising a Name, to Raise his owne more high.
3
Some, Souce in bitter Inke,
The venome which they thinke,
To taxe the Times;
Write Satire, to betray
Selfe-gvilt, whilst they display
The Age's Crimes;
And vindicate their owne with biting Rhimes.
4
Some, in a higher Straine,
Must Annalize the Raigne,
Of Cæsar's Glorie;
Breath big, and thunder State,
Lest he Extenuate,
And dimme the Storie;
Which, his Muse tells him, is not Transitorie.
5
Another, doth prefer
To the full Theater,
His giddie verse;
Now, in a Comicke Stile,
Hee wantons; in a while,
Growne big and feirce,
The buskin'd Muse comes out, in Blood and Tears.
6
How much the verse deceives
Our hopes! Like Autumne leaves,
They blow away;
The time wee spent, is lost,
And onlie Time can boast,
In our Decay;
Our verse forgot, not one Line, left to Say.
7
Great Monster! Shall wee gaine
Our Labour for our paine?
And noe more wage?
I'le bring, to stop thy Iawes,
And Cancell all thy Lawes
Of Right or Rage;
A Verse too Stronge for Envie or for Age.
