_Poets_, like _Leaves_ and _Words_, their _Periods_ know,
Now _fresh_ and _green_, now _sear_ and wither'd grow;
Or _burnt_ by _Autumn's_ Heat, and _Winter's_ Cold,
Or a _new hasty Birth_ shoves off the _old_.
Happy are those, and such are _some_ of ours, }
Who blest by bounteous _Heav'n's_ indulgent _Show'rs_ }
Bear wholsome _Fruit_, and not gay _pois'nous Flow'rs_: }
Who would not ev'n a _Lawreat's self_ commence 770
Or at their _Virtue's_ or their _Faith's_ Expence:
Renounce their _Creed_ to save a _wretched Play_, }
And for a _crowded House_ and _full Third Day_ }
At one _bold Stroke_ throw all their _Heav'n_ away. }
What gain'd _Euripides_ by all his _Sense_,
Who madly rail'd against a _Providence_?
_Apostate Poets_ first seduc'd _Mankind_,
_But ours upon the Pagan Herd refin'd_;
They Vertue _prais'd_ at least, which ours _abuse_,
And more than _Paganize_ the Heav'n-born Muse: 780
No Signs of _Grace_, or of _Repentance_ show,
Like _Strumpets lash'd_, more _impudent_ they grow.
Now learn, my Friend, and freely I'll impart
My _little All_ in this delightful Art:
Of _Poetry_ the various _Forms_ and _Kinds_,
The widest, strongest _Grasp_ of human Minds:
Not _all_ from _all_, but _some_ from _each_ I take,
Since we a _Garland_ not a _Garden_ make.
[Sidenote: _Epic_.]
EPIC's the _first_ and _best_, which mounting sings }
In _Mighty Numbers worthy mighty Things_, } 790
Of _High Adventures, Heroes, Gods_ and _Kings_: }