To John Donne

Who shall doubt, Donne, where I a poet be,
When I dare send my Epigrams to thee?
That so alone canst judge, so alone dost make
And in thy censures, evenly, dost take
As free simplicity, to disavow,
As thou hast best authority t' allow.
Read all I send; and if I find but one
Mark'd by thy hand, and with the better stone,
My title's seal'd. Those that for claps do write,
Let pui'nees', porters', players' praise delight,
And till they burst, their backs, like asses, load:
A man should seek great glory, and not broad.