The Times' Whistle Or A Newe Daunce of Seuen Satires, and other Poems: Compiled by R. C., Gent. [i.e. Richard Corbett]. Now First Edited from Ms. Y. 8. 3. in the Library of Canterbury Cathedral: With introduction, notes, and glossary, By J. M. Cowper |
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Scribimus indocti doctique epigrammata passim. |
 | The Times' Whistle |  |
Scribimus indocti doctique epigrammata passim.
Iohnson they say 's turnd Epigrammatist,
Soe think not I, believe it they that list.
Peruse his booke, thou shalt not find a dram
Of witt befitting a true Epigram.
Perhaps some scraps of play-bookes thou maist see,
Collected heer & there confusedlie,
Which piece his broken stuffe; if thou but note,
Iust like soe many patches on a cote.
And yet his intret Cato sta[n]ds before,
Even at the portall of his pamphlets dore;
As who should say, this booke is fit for none
But Catoes, learned men, to looke vpon:
Or else, let Cato censure if he will,
My booke deserves the best of iudgement still.
When every gull may see his booke 's vntwitten,
And Epigrams as bad as e're were written.
Soe think not I, believe it they that list.
Peruse his booke, thou shalt not find a dram
Of witt befitting a true Epigram.
Perhaps some scraps of play-bookes thou maist see,
Collected heer & there confusedlie,
Which piece his broken stuffe; if thou but note,
Iust like soe many patches on a cote.
And yet his intret Cato sta[n]ds before,
Even at the portall of his pamphlets dore;
As who should say, this booke is fit for none
But Catoes, learned men, to looke vpon:
Or else, let Cato censure if he will,
My booke deserves the best of iudgement still.
When every gull may see his booke 's vntwitten,
And Epigrams as bad as e're were written.
Iohnson, this worke thy other doth distaine,
And makes the world imagine that thy vein
Is not true bred but of some bastard race.
Then write no more, or write with better grace;
Turne thee to plaies, & therin write thy fill;
Leave Epigrams to artists of more skill.
And makes the world imagine that thy vein
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Then write no more, or write with better grace;
Turne thee to plaies, & therin write thy fill;
Leave Epigrams to artists of more skill.
| The Times' Whistle | |