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[A poet I am neither Born nor Bred]

A poet I am neither Born nor Bred,
But to a VVitty Poet Married,

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Whose Brain is Fresh, and Pleasant, as the Spring,
Where Fancies grow, and where the Muses sing;
There oft I lean my Head, and List'ning hark,
T' observe his Words, and all his Fancies mark;
And from that Garden Flow'rs of Fancies take,
VVhereof a Posie up in Verse I make:
Thus I, that have no Garden of my own,
There gather Flowers, that are newly Blown.