To My Known Friend, Mr. Shirley, Upon His Comedy, The GRATEFUL SERVANT
Who would write well for the abused stage,
When only swelling words do please the age,
And malice is thought wit? To make 't appear
They judge, they mis-interpret what they hear.
Rough poems now usurp the name of good,
And are admir'd but never understood.
Thee and thy strains I vindicate, whose pen
Wisely disdains to injure lines, or men:
Thou hast prepared dainties for each taste,
And art by all that know thy Muse embrac'd.
Let purblind critics still endure this curse,
To see good plays, and ever like the worse.
When only swelling words do please the age,
And malice is thought wit? To make 't appear
They judge, they mis-interpret what they hear.
Rough poems now usurp the name of good,
And are admir'd but never understood.
Thee and thy strains I vindicate, whose pen
Wisely disdains to injure lines, or men:
Thou hast prepared dainties for each taste,
And art by all that know thy Muse embrac'd.
Let purblind critics still endure this curse,
To see good plays, and ever like the worse.
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