And their weak judgment, void of sense and light, Thinks nothing can escape their feeble sight: Their dangerous counsels do not cure, but wound; } To shun the storm they run your verse aground, } And thinking to escape a rock, are drowned. } Chuse a sure judge to censure what you write, Whose reason leads, and knowledge gives you light, Whose steady hand will prove your faithful guide, And touch the darling follies you would hide: He, in your doubts, will carefully advise, And clear the mist before your feeble eyes. 'Tis he will tell you, to what noble height A generous muse may sometimes take her flight; When too much fettered with the rules of art, May from her stricter bounds and limits part: But such a perfect judge is hard to see, And every rhymer knows not poetry; Nay some there are for writing verse extolled, Who know not Lucan's dross from Virgil's gold. Would you in this great art acquire renown? Authors, observe the rules I here lay down. In prudent lessons every where abound; With pleasant join the useful and the sound: A sober reader a vain tale will slight; He seeks as well instruction as delight. Let all your thoughts to virtue be confined, Still offering nobler figures to our mind: I like not those loose writers, who employ Their guilty muse, good manners to destroy; Who with false colours still deceive our eyes, And show us vice dressed in a fair disguise. Yet do I not their sullen muse approve, Who from all modest writings banish love; That stript the playhouse of its chief intrigue, And make a murderer of Roderigue: The lightest love, if decently exprest, Will raise no vitious motions in our breast. Dido in vain may weep, and ask relief; I blame her folly, whilst I share her grief. A virtuous author, in his charming art, To please the sense needs not corrupt the heart: His heat will never cause a guilty fire: To follow virtue then be your desire. In vain your art and vigour are exprest; The obscene expression shows the infected breast. But, above all, base jealousies avoid, In which detracting poets are employed. A noble wit dares liberally commend, And scorns to grudge at his deserving friend. Base rivals, who true wit and merit hate, Caballing still against it with the great, Maliciously aspire to gain renown, By standing up, and pulling others down. Never debase yourself by treacherous ways, Nor by such abject methods seek for praise: Let not your only business be to write; Be virtuous, just, and in your friends delight. 'Tis not enough your poems be admired; But strive your conversation be desired: Write for immortal fame; nor ever chuse Gold for the object of a generous muse. I know a noble wit may, without crime, Receive a lawful tribute for his time: