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The Studious (that in Books so long have sought
What our Wise Fathers did, or what they thought)
Admit not Reason to be naturall,
But forc'd, harsh, and uneasie unto all:
Well may it be so, when from our Soul's Eyes,
With dark Schoole-Clouds, they keepe it in disguise:
They seeme to know, what they are loth t'impart;
Reason (our Nature once) is now their Art:
And by sophistick, uselesse-science, trie
T'ingage us still, to their false industrie;
T'untie that knot, which they themselves have ty'd,
And had been loose to all, but for their pride:
Their pride; who rule as chiefe on Earth, because
They only can expound, their owne hard Lawes.
Since thus, all that direct what others doe,
Are proud; why should not Poets be so too?
Although not good, tis prosperous at least
To imitate the greatest, not the best.
Know then, I must be proud! but when I tell
The cause that makes my nourish'd glory swell,
I shall (like lucky Pensils) have the fate
T'exceed the Patterns, which I imitate,
What our Wise Fathers did, or what they thought)
Admit not Reason to be naturall,
But forc'd, harsh, and uneasie unto all:
Well may it be so, when from our Soul's Eyes,
With dark Schoole-Clouds, they keepe it in disguise:
They seeme to know, what they are loth t'impart;
Reason (our Nature once) is now their Art:
And by sophistick, uselesse-science, trie
T'ingage us still, to their false industrie;
T'untie that knot, which they themselves have ty'd,
And had been loose to all, but for their pride:
Their pride; who rule as chiefe on Earth, because
They only can expound, their owne hard Lawes.
Since thus, all that direct what others doe,
Are proud; why should not Poets be so too?
Although not good, tis prosperous at least
To imitate the greatest, not the best.
Know then, I must be proud! but when I tell
The cause that makes my nourish'd glory swell,
I shall (like lucky Pensils) have the fate
T'exceed the Patterns, which I imitate,
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