University of Virginia Library



EPILOGUE, By the AUTHOR.

This the first born, and what he wants in Wit
Forgive, you elder Brothers in the Pit:
But there, the more Auspicious Signs appear,
And every Constellation bright, and clear.
By you this day, the Poet hopes to live,
Defended by the Sanction, that you give,
No surly Critick, or ill natured clown,
Where so much Beauty smiles, will dare to frown,
Tho' there are some, whose Minds are so diseas'd,
That even they are Angry to be Pleas'd
Who think the Night ill spent, and Money lost
If not repaid at the poor Poet's cost.
From such as these, you Fair, defend his Name,
And in his safety now, consult your Fame:
Some are already Sung, and all shall find
The Tribute of the Muse to whom they'r Kind.
The Muse and Beauty ever were ally'd,
And Nothing should our Interests divide.
We both have Foes, the base Lampooner You,
As Criticks us much Mortal Spite pursue;
Then let us Joyn our Force, and War declare
Beauty Support the Muse, The Muse defend the Fair.