ABSTRACT
In whineing Poetry to weepe, sigh, groane; And say thy Hart's hard Flint, or Marblestone, A frozen Statue of cold Ice, or snowe; I hate these equally, I'll not say soe. Pry thee as I then scorne these wittless Things, Wee'l fly a higher pitch, w tb unimp't wings; And see what Stuff doth make the bright hott Sun. And in our Similies damne Doctor Dunne.
