Musick resembles Poetry, in each
Are nameless Graces which no Methods teach,
And which a Master-Hand alone can reach.
Musick resembles Poetry, in each
Are nameless Graces which no Methods teach,
And which a Master-Hand alone can reach.
And he, whose fustian's so sublimely bad, It is not poetry, but prose run mad.
Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool, But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet.
Poets heap Virtues, Painters Gems at will,
And show their zeal, and hide their want of skill.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories