The following Poem was presented me about a year ago; and (as it appears by the Author's Epistle to me) was designed only for my Private Divertisement: But numerous Draughts being dispers'd abroad, by the Unworthiness of a Gentleman I Trusted it withal, I was more easily perswaded to Publish the Original, to prevent the Inconveniencies of a Surreptitious Copy, which, without my Allowance, was designed for the Press. The Author being out of _England_, I would not venture to set his Name to it; nor have I presumed thus far, without extraordinary regret; not that I know any other Reason that enforces a concealment, besides that it was sent to me with such a Bond. I am sure no particular Person can pretend to any distaste; and _Satyr_ on general Subjects was ever Allowable, _Religion_ and _Government_ only excepted. But I must Confess, that in the Third Part of this Poem, there were some Capital Letters which began the Names of certain Poets of this Age, but them I have so altered, lest any Offence should be given, that by them I am sure no Discovery can be made. I will no longer detain you from your better Divertisement in the following Poem; which, if you have any good Nature, you cannot chuse but favour, especially if you carry along with you those several Circumstances which in the way will offer themselves to you in the Author's behalf. _Farewel._ The Author's Epistle. SIR, _My Obedience to your desire so happily concentring with my Inclination to this Subject, has in less than a fortnight's space produc'd what here you see. To you I need not make any Apology for its Artless Habit, who very well know my want of years, and a necessary Experience in the Ages humour; nor can you reasonably expect any extraordinary strokes from one whose thoughts are divided between so many various Afflictions; since_ Ovid _himself, when Condemn'd to Banishment, was forc'd to resign that Spirit of Poetry, which animated all his Works, besides that of his_ De Tristibus. _Besides, I must desire your Patience to observe, that (the Verse I use being a kind of Doggrel) it is but Natural that now and then it should run harsh and rugged; nor do I believe I have done amiss by forcing my self sometimes to be so very plain and familiar. As for the Rhyme and Measure, though perhaps they may not always answer the strictest Law, yet I do not think it worth the while to make any excuse for that, being faults so inconsiderable, that they are seldom reflected on, but by the meanest sort of Criticks, who want judgment to discern the Intrigues of Humour and Invention, which are the Principal Ingredients of a Poem, and which I must needs confess are here extreamly deficient: For as this little Poem was written_ extempore, _so it presumes to kiss your hand in its Native unpolish'd shape, not having the least thought or word of it Corrected; for to Morrow being the time we design to take Shipping, I had not so much leisure as to Transcribe it._