Classic Poem

'T IS done, and we alive again, and now
There is no Tragedy, but in your Brow.
And yet our Author hopes you're pleas'd; if not,
This having fail'd, he has a second Plot:
'Tis this; the next Day send us in your Friends,
Then laugh at them, and make your selves amends.
Thus, whether it be good or bad, yet you
May please your selves, and you may please us too:
But look you please the Poet, lest he vow
A full Revenge upon you all; but how?
'Tis not too kill you all twenty a Day,
He'll do't at once a more compendious way;
He means to write again; but so much worse,
That seeing that, you'll think it a just Curse
For censuring this: 'Faith, give him your Applause,
As you give Beggars Mony; for no cause,
But that he's trouble some, and he has swore,
As Beggars do, he'll trouble you no more.