26. To Zoilus.
1
When I remember what mine eyes have seen,
And what mine ears have heard,
Concerning Muses too too young and green;
And how they have been jeer'd:
T'expose my own I am afear'd.
2
And yet this fear decreases, when I call
To my tempestuous mind,
How the strong loines of Phœbus children all,
Have fall'n by censures wind:
And in their road what rocks they find:
3
But then fresh thoughts my breast surprising, lend
More stripes of Eglantine:
For if with strongest Muses they contend,
And at such wits repine;
Much more they'l strike at mine.
4
When snotty Zoilus his detested breed
Shall their dull fingers lay
Upon my volumes, and begin to read
Th' included lines, he'l say
I am but Bacchus boy.
5
And what renowned rhymes can be expected
From him that's sopt in juyce
Of guzling Aristippus, and infected
With liquor too profuse?
His wits are drown'd in's cruse.
6
Thus by my person he'l my Poems measure,
'Cause I am young and poor;
(And who can hinder't if it be his pleasure?)
He'l say my wit's no more,
And I his lash must feel therefore.
7
Well, what of this, though in his furious rage,
With belching words he saies
I am a child, a child and under age,
Ith' non age of my days?
This addes the more unto my praise.
8
But now to you, the lamps of humane wit,
And pillars of discretion;
That on the vertex of Parnassus sit,
Retaining full possession
Of prudence, far beyond expression:
9
You that can please Mecænas, if you please;
And daily drink your fills
Of wit, by courting the Pierides,
Which do invite your quills
To move, as water turns the mills:
10
If you but please to cast your eys upon
The off-springs of my brain,
With censure soft; and see what I have done
With love, and not disdain:
I have enough of joyful gain.
11
And for reward, this promise I will give,
If ye will but incline
To tread within the limits where I live,
(Though all at me repine)
You shall be serv'd with noble wine.
12
The which I'le boast of to transcend the drinks
Wherein the Gods delight:
Here's genuine Nectar, that's defil'd and stinks.
O here's a lovely golden bright;
A taste that charms the appetite:
13
What though my drowzy Muse is too too dull,
Wanting some grains of weight?
Yet Pipes they flow, and Hogsheads they are full
Of liquor pure and right,
To which I do you all invite.
14
Excluding Zoilus, and his crazy crew
I hat fanci'd to contest
With Vulcans honest servant, 'cause there grew
No window in his breast.
Let them drink Ale and be unblest.
