Never dranke I of Pegasus his well,
Nor in Parnassus dream’t (that I can tell)
Though I write Verse, for I would have men know it,
The Times are good or ill, make me a Poet.
To praise Ulisses wise, as much my care is,
As to condemne Thersites, or vaine Paris.
And as sweete Orpheus to his Harpe did set
High tun’d Ditties, great courages to whet;
So ever bee’t my taske, to move great spirits,
And honourable soules, to brave demerits.
Mongst whom (Sir Miles) me thinkes I see you rise
Like Phosphorus, grac’d with such qualities,
That they, as well as your high orders rites,
May justly ranke you with the best of Knights.
(Ralph Knevet)
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Based on Topics: Wisdom & Knowledge Poems, Literature Poems, Poets PoemsBased on Keywords: harpe, thinkes, ranke, phosphorus, taske, dranke, thersites, courages, condemne, ulisses, demerits