Classic Poem

Of Mirth.

Mirth in a meane doth please; meane mirth displeases:
(I meane that meane that yeelds a Rellish double)
Meane in the soundest sence , Sence nere diseases:
But mirth too meane, sound Sence doth nought but trouble.
Now how to hit the right moode of this meane
(That soundeth sweetely to the soundest Sence ,
And to auoid the other which doth leaue
On base conceit borne vp with Impudence )
Iudgement must scanne, and (scanning) censure it,
Ah, would she might, and Folly cease to scan,
Then men might passe the Pikes with compleat Wit
Of Enuy , that still girds the witty man
Of Iests there are innumerable kindes,
Some sharpe, some blunt, some close, some wondrous broade,
Simple, compound, sweete, bitter, like their mindes
From whome they come, or in whome make aboade
All are not currant that do goe for Iests,
Nor all Iests like not all, Though some like some:
What some desire some other most detest:
Why then, of all, this is the totall Summe:
When Iests agree with Persons, Time and Place
Then Iests and Mirth haue ever greatest grace:
But I desirous to delight each minde,
Haue made an hotch-potch heere, of cury kinde