If this plain _English_ be, 'tis far from Trick,
Though some Lines gall, where others fawning lick;
Which fits thy Poet, _Amiell_, for thy Smiles,
If once more paid to blaze thy hated Toils.
Of Things and Persons might be added more,
Without Intelligence from Forreign Shore,
Or what Designs Ambassadors contrive,
Or how the Faithless _French_ their Compass guide:
But Lines the busie World too much supply,
Besides th'Effects of evil Poetry,
Which much to _Tory_-Writers some ascribe,
Though hop'd no Furies of the _Whiggish_ Tribe
Will on their Backs such Lines or Shapes convey,
To burn with Pope, on Great _November_'s Day.

_FINIS._


[Erratum:

And such Heaven bids thee not relinquish too.
_text reads "relinqnish"_ ]


* * * * *

AZARIA
AND
HUSHAI,