Classic Poem

The bird, that's fetch't from Phasis floud,
Or choicest hennes of Africk-brood;
These please our palates. and why these?
'Cause they can but seldome please.
Whil'st the goose soe goodly white,
And the drake yeeld noe delight,
Though his wings conceited hewe
Paint each feather, as if new.
These for vulgar stomacks be,
And rellish not of rarity.
But the dainty Scarus, sought
In farthest clime; what e're is bought
With shipwracks toile, Oh, that is sweet,
'Cause the quicksands hanselld it.
The pretious Barbill, now groune rife,
Is cloying meat. How stale is Wife?
Deare wife hath ne're a handsome letter,
Sweet mistris sounds a great deale better.
Rose quakes at name of Cinnamon.
Unlesse't be rare, what's thought upon?