Epigram 101. Of a Roome in cal'd the Minerva

Approch not you dull souls, that durt and muck
Do grovell in; follow your sordid luck:
Athens no Fame had for mechanick Arts,
But by those generous spirits of nobler Parts.
They that are Wits, and love the Wits, may come,
Converse and tipple in this jovial Room;
Pallas admits none else: For know, the Owle,
Her sacred Bird will (at their entrance) howl.
Herein the Grécian Sages do converse,
And here the Poets their high lines reherse.
Here Tully and Demosthenes doe plead,
And Plato here and Aristotle's read:
For this the Epitome of Athens is,
And teaches all the Liberal sciences.
Such is the companies discourse: Then hence
All earthen-minded Brats of ignorance;
And welcome the ingenious to this spring
That makes the Orator write, and Poet sing;
To the Philosopher new truths discovers,
And courage gives to the faint-hearted Lovers.
To those lets drink (Conversion from their Crime)
That over Ale and Beere can spend their time,
That on their Errours they may may turn their back,
And in Minerva's Fane here tipple Sack:
For Ale and Beer breed Flegm, engender Pains;
But rich Canarie elevates the Brains.