I do desire the snarle and do thy worst,
Who at thy mercie stands is most accurst:
I write to please my Friends and bouldly vow,
Neither thy venom’d Tongue, nor bended Brow
Shall force me to a Recantation.
I know thy trade, thy Occupation
Is to find fault, find them good Sir, and take them,
They are your own, ’tis you not I that make them.
Belch out thy poison then, and vent thy gall,
I have an Antidote within ‘gainst all.
Besides here is a Charm, if you but look
Upon the Frontire peece of this poor Book;
A Ladies name, a name that vertue hath
Enough to make this Book become a Bath,
And give each line a healing power by which
Each critick may be cur’d of his salt itch.
This makes me here with confidence protest,
I fear not thee nor any such wilde beast.
(John Eliot)
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Based on Topics: Name Poems, Work & Career Poems, Books Poems, Business & Commerce Poems, Charm PoemsBased on Keywords: belch, mercie, critick, peece, recantation, frontire, bouldly