Ad Amicum Litigantem,

WOuld you commence a Poet S•, and be
A graduat in the thredbare mysterie?
The Oxes ford will no man thither bring,
Where the horse hoofe raisd the Pegasian spring.
Nor will the bridge through which low Cham doth runne,
Direct you to the bankes of Helicon.
If in that art you meane to take degrees,
Bedlam's the best of universities.
There study it, and when you would no more
A Poet be, goe drinke some Hellebore.
Which drugge when I had tasted, soone I left
The bare Parnassus, and the barren cleft;
And can no more one of their Nation bee,
Because recover'd of my lunacie.
But you may then succeed me in my place
Of Poet, no pretence to make your grace
Denied you, for you goe to law, 'tis said;
And then 'tis ta'ne for granted you are mad.

Felicem Anticyram! nullos ibi credo Poetas
Insanos tumido corde fovere modos.
Hanc, fama est tantum sanos admittere cives.
Exulat hinc vester, (turba molesta) furor!
Nullus in hâc Elegis, nullus jugulatur Iambis;
Incola non Satyram, non Epigramma timet.
Nullus in hâc tener as recitator verberat aures;
Non hic judicium, non petit ille tuum.
Non hic te Chloris, non hic laudata fatigat
Coelia; nulla tuam mordet hirudo cutem.
Putida nec medias disrumpunt carmina mensas;
Mucida nec quisquam vina legendo facit.
Nusquam aliquis, terrae securior errat, ob unum hoc
Grates Helloboro quin agat ille suo.