So must the writer, whose productions should Take with the vulgar, be of vulgar mould.

Poets that lasting marble seek Must come in Latin or in Greek.

Could we forbear dispute, and practise love, We should agree as angels do above.

Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.

A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that 's good, and all that 's fair; Give me but what this riband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.

Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.