Classic Poem

Try greasing wheels: your taste reveals
You might be fit for that:
Nay, truth to tell, 'twould suit you well
Because your wits are fat.

For length you damn my epigram!
Is Brutus' boy too small?
Your critic eyes perhaps despise
Colossus as too tall?

'Tis plain indeed you never read
Marsus or Pedo sage;
One piece of each will often reach
Beyond a single page.

A word remove and I will prove
You do my poem wrong.
Your couplets are too long by far —
That is two lines too long.