Epistle XLV. To the High: Sheriff of S.

Sir,

You have giv'n us Poets entertainment,
Good cheer and wine; we give you Poets payment,
Good words and Rhythme; but you out-do us here
You match our Rhythme; but we can't match your cheer.
And here's the reason, which our Muses grieves,
Sheriffs are made Poets, but ne'r Poets Sheriffs.