Falfe in thy glass all objects are, The fire that burns, and gives no light. O Jealoufy! Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy, "TIS much defir'd, you judges of the town Would pass a vote to put all prologues down; For who can show me, fince they first were writ, They e'er converted one hard-hearted wit? Yet the world's mended well; in former days 5 Good prologues were as fcarce as now good plays. For the reforming poets of our age, In this first charge, fpend their poetic rage: rhimes; 10 High language often; ay, and fenfe, fometimes. 15 |