Classic Poem

PSEUDODOXIA EPIDEMIKA

I F TO DELIGHT , and profit, be of praise;
Admire this Author; who hath manie waies,
Oblig'd the world, in Eyther. Would yow see
Error unveil'd, by a Strict Scrutinie?
Would you know probablye, the Causes hid
Of many Things, in Nature? such as (bred
Upon the Pillowe of conjecture) were
Strangelie imposed, by Inquisition, Cleare?
Read ore this Booke. Or would yow trifle out
Your Time, in some unnecessarie Doubt?
Seeme wittye? to discourse, of things unknowne,
As in your Knowledge? make this Booke your owne.
If a neat Stile, or Language, doe delight yee,
Fall gladlie to; nor let the Hard words fright yee.
Or, are yow Serious? would yow faine behold
Man, first Deluded? and the manifold
Still-interposeing Clouds, blearing his Sight
To looke at Truth, in her Eternall Light?
This, be the Mirror. I have said Enough,
As my owne Relish to it, drawes Mee through;
What yet remains is All; but What is That?
Reade ore the Booke, and Yow may tell Mee, What.