To Groom Idiot

Idiot, last night, I pray'd thee but forbear
To read my verses; now I must to hear:
For offering with thy smiles my wit to grace,
Thy ignorance still laughs in the wrong place.
And so my sharpness thou no less disjoints,
Than thou didst late my sense, losing my points.
So have I seen at Christmas-sports, one lost,
And hood-wink'd, for a man embrace a post.