Classic Poem

Plain Humour, shewn with her whole various face,
Not mask'd with any antick dress,
Nor screw'd in forc'd ridiculous grimace
(The gaping Rabble's dull delight,
And more the Actor's than the Poet's wit)
Such did she enter on thy Stage,
And such was represented to the wondring Age.
Well wast thou skill'd and read in human kind,
In every wild fantastick Passion of his mind:
Did'st into all his hidden inclinations dive,
What each from Nature do's receive,
Or Age, or Sex, or Quality, or Country give:
What Custom too, that mighty Sorceress,
Whose powr'ful Witchcraft do's transform
Inchanted Man to several monstrous images,
Makes this an odd and freakish Monkey turn,
And that a grave and solemn Ass appear,
And all a thousand beastly shapes of folly wear:
Whate're Caprice, or Whimsy leads awry
Perverted and seduc'd Mortality:
Or do's incline and byass it
From what's discreet and wise and right and good and fit;
All in thy faithful glass were so exprest,
As if they were reflections of thy brest,
As if they had bin stamp'd on thy own mind.
And thou the universal vast Idea of Mankind.