Classic Poem

Here, Ensign Swan! in Sign of my Wit now,
I'll do what's hardest for True Wit to do;
To wit, to write, in Praise of yours, like you;
I'll write the Praise of your Wit, in your Stile;
Show yours more, making mine to yours a Foil;
Since we can show to no Wits more Esteem,
Than in our imitating theirs and them;
And giving to their Wit, impartial Praise,
Tho' by it, our own Judgment we disgrace,
And our Sense, in exalting theirs, debase;
So, tho' my Praising your Wit, be no Sign
Of showing any to the World of mine;
My Goose-Quill shall raise to the Skies, my Swan ,
Tho' some think me a Goose, but for my Pain;
I'll write your Sham-Praise, tho' it grows my Shame,
Tho' your Wit's Commendation were my Blame;
Since if Praise, to your wrong Sense does belong,
For Quibling, right Sense in your Praise, were wrong;
And true Wit, false Sense, praising yours, wou'd grow;
Then Reason without Sense, to yours I do
Credit your Quibling, Quibling worse than you;
Whose Wit, (as 'tis ingeniously confest)
By all, if 'twere more, wou'd be less a Jest:
But thine sure is the Fashionable Wit;
Since Courts, which true Wit hate, will practise it;
Where Proud and Great Men, Common Sense despise;
And false things, more still than the true ones prize;
Always run down their Foe, true, currant Wit,
But Quibling love because a Counterfeit,
Their Fortune's make, who happiest are in it;
As if, like Bastard Children, Bastard Sense,
To good Luck had, more than the true, Pretence;
Then Quibling is most Wit, as it is least,
Since by it Men are made still happiest;
And by it are as often made, (you'll own)
At Court, as most by true Wit there undone;
Where all, who prove most happy in true Wit,
Least happy in their Fortunes are for it:
Then since true Sense brings Men to Beggary,
Quibling, to live in Courts more happily,
Sure Quibling is more Ingenuity;
And since in Courts, all Counterfeits live best,
Where true Wit, as all true things, is opprest;
Having most Reason, has done to it least;
False Sense, as false Faith, proves it itself true Wit,
Which, as more false, has more Friends true to it;
Since great State-Quiblers have more Reason done
To Men's Parts, as they've less; more Favour shown
To them, as they are liker to their own;
So false Wit (Friend Swan! ) as false Dice will too,
At Court, as most (by Great Examples know)
Support those, whom the true wou'd but undo:
Then Quibling is the happiest sort of Wit,
Since Men undone by th' true, are made by it;
Whence you, with Words, Swan! as a Gamester play,
To make the most at least, of what you say;
And if that Wit for best and most may pass,
As it in fewest Words, most Meaning has;
Your Wit shou'd then sure for the greatest go,
Since that the true Wit's Jest, or Wit (we know)
One only Meaning has, whilst yours has two;
So, whilst the best Wit's Jests, like Mortals make,
Such as, most Mean Sense, can their Meaning take,
In Oracles, like Heathen Gods, you speak;
Whose Mystic Meaning, often when you wou'd
Go for most knowing, least is understood;
Yet 'tis confest, thou art the truer Wit,
Since ne'r the better in thy Purse for it,
For much Wit, with much Wealth, was ne'r seen yet:
So you, Swan! (though an Arch-Bird with your Jest)
With your Wit ne'r, Swan! feather'd your own Nest;
Ye tho' you have no Livings, or no Lands,
Have your Means sure to live, in your own Hands;
Who tho', Swan! you ne'r div'd in Helicon ,
Have, for a Dabler still in Wit, been known,
But never yet your Ingenuity,
In question call'd, by Starving Poetry;
For, tho' you, Swan! a Wit, as 'twere, have been,
To him of Mantua , yet scarce of Kin;
Tho' Quiblers, Wits, Birds of a Feather are,
As Goose, and Swan, something alike appear.