Satyr I. A Letter To A Friend. On Poets. Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Poets are bound by ye severest rules	A
the great ones must be mad ye little all are fools	A
thus wn I rime 'tis at my own expence	A
to please my friend I drop my claim to sence	A
but now ye greater sway wch custome bears	A
to forfeit souls in oaths or sence in verse	A
the using of an ill has so much power	B
stamp it a fashion its ill no more	C
since then ye humour so extremely reigns	A
that ye gay folly every brest unbends	A
let me beneath ye common shadow hide	D
the fault's not mine thats all ye worlds beside	D
say then if passion discontent or ease	A
sho'd e're your friend wth poetry possess	A
for these and want ye muses setters seeme	E
to draw in cullies to their loosing game	E
how may I know yepath I ought to tread	F
for 'tis in all mens natures to succeed	G
some one way more than any else beside	D
fancy the reigning planet of yer mind	H
guides poets like her they're unconfin'd	H
a bounded genius will attempt to prove	I
the stings of satyr ye flames of love	J
Jear folly virtue by example praise	A
move our passions or language raise	A
happy one way but one he'l scorn to chuse	A
so much or wilder hopes our parts abuse	A
Durfy more luckily employs his quill	K
weak as he is he knows his talent still	K
Wn C r taught how plays debaucht ye age	L
he left to V ke to defend the stage	L
in rufull ballad humbly pleas'd to rage	L
how great undisturb'd by censuring foes	A
might eithers fame beneath thier wreaths repose	A
had B l nere written verse nor C ve prose	A
B r in Epicks may be still inspir'd	M
by men of sence approv'd by all ye rest admir'd	M
let him of Williams thickned lawrells sing	N
while for himself from every page they spring	N
that shall crowne ye poet wch adorns ye King	N
but nere to tread in scandalls rougher ways	A
again depart ye peacefull realms of praise	A
we read his satyr his wit allow	O
we read own the blended malice too	P
but oft his muse shows an unpointed tooth	Q
Wn a just turn of verse don't raise ye illnaturd truth	Q
low puns for wit his lines do often fill	K
oft he rambles in too loose a stile	R
the biting satyr fights in closer file	R
laborious T te has many methods try'd	P
to know wt happy way he may succeed	P
A play or two employ'd his hopes at first	P
far from ye best a little from ye worst	P
then bits of foreign poets to or tongue	S
more happily he brought more sweetly sung	S
flush'd with success he rises up from hence	A
to rescue David at his own expence	A
so have I known some painters wn a face	A
in spight of all their touches wants to please	A
turn up its eys alter all its dress	A
the auction piece a flowing glory wears	A
where the syren fail'd ye saint appears	A
Now I who proudly authors thus arraign	T
am may be envious thought may be vain	T
but if my lines can gain one friends esteem	E
or my diversion be 'tis all my aim	E
I never bid perhaps nere shall for fame	E
Nay sho'd I find my censures too severe	U
Ide in my changing prove my temper fair	V
and see with joy an error disappear	U
let Dennis rules for writing well lay downe	W
believe wt he prescribes his play has done	X
a preface write to shew he dos not faile	Y
Till Hypers to himself ye fop reveale	Y

Thomas Parnell

Satyr I. A Letter To A Friend. On Poets. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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