Subjects like theſe will never get you fame,
Nor can you Write, if this be all your Aim ;
More than a Rogue can Sing that ſets a Pſalm.}
But if like Wits you would the Town oblige,
Write a good Comedy on ſome ſam'd Siege ,
But not in Rhime, and if to pleaſe you mean,
Let Luxemberg be taken the firſt Scene_;
Yet, now I think on't, chooſe another ſtory,
Some Sparks that late went o're to hunt for Glory
Have ſpoyl'd that jeſt, and ta'ne the Town before ye :
No wonder too, for who could ſtand their Rage,
Since they with Conningſmark broad Swords Jngage;
I fancy you'l turn Butchers the next Age :}
For theſe new Weapons look that guard your Lives,
Like bloody Cozen Germans to their Knives :
I'le put a queſtion t'ee, pray does the Writer
As times! go, get moſt Credit, or the Fighter ?
Wit is aplauded when with fancy dreſs,
But to be knockt o'th' head's a curſed jeſt;
A fate in which your forward Fool miſcarries,
No,'tis much better, tolly ſick at Paris ;
Where we can Write, what the French King intends,
And ſtorm a Town, in Letters to our Friends.
Another Inconvenience we muſt own,
There's many a Fool is by a Bullet known ,
That once paſs't for a Wit of high renown.}
The proof of fence, lyes hid in ſafety, here;
But when the Scull is broke the Brains appear.
Ah Sirs ! if you to the rough Wars ſhould follow,
How many Pates like mine would be found hollow ;
Faith then take my Advice, ſtick to Apollo.}
Write, and be ſtudious in Dramatick Rules,
For ſhould our Poets found your ſhallow Sculls
You were undone for Wits, and we for Fools.}

                   LONDON,
Printed for Joſeph Hindmarſh, Bookſeller to
His ROYAL HIGHNESS, living
       at the Black Bull in Cornhilh. 1684.