Follies Anatomie or Satyres and Satyricall Epigrams. With a compendious History of Ixion's Wheele. Compiled by Henry Hutton |
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To the Reader.
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 | Follies Anatomie |  |
To the Reader.
Heark , ye yong Roysters, that with Inkehorn stuffeDelude the state, and rayle the world in snuffe:
Let me, in Court'sie, beg a friendly Q,
When you haue spent your mouths vpon the view.
Chop logick, chaw your cuds; some leisure giue.
My Muse, which doth at rack and manger liue,
Must halt about the marke; for she's not flight:
And yet, though slowe, she sometims speaks aright.
I feare no colours: Let mad Satyres write.
The Curres which barke the most, do seldome bite.
Let coxcombs curry fauour with a fee,
Extoll their braines, with Claw me, I'l claw thee.
I write the truth: If any fault you see,
Impute it to ill readings, not to me.
Dispence with my bold quill: if she be fell,
I doe it for the best: I wish all well.
Conniue yong wits (which on your humors stand)
I'l, with the Prouerbe, Turne the Cat ith' band.
And ere ye iaree, for Peace sake giue the way;
Sith few, or none, with edg'd tooles safely play.
| Follies Anatomie | |