The Poetry Corner

A Skeltoniad

By Michael Drayton

The Muse should be sprightly, Yet not handling lightly Things graue; as much loath, Things that be slight, to cloath Curiously: To retayne The Comelinesse in meane, Is true Knowledge and Wit. Not me forc'd Rage doth fit, That I thereto should lacke Tabacco, or need Sacke, Which to the colder Braine Is the true Hyppocrene; Nor did I euer care For great Fooles, nor them spare. Vertue, though neglected, Is not so deiected, As vilely to descend To low Basenesse their end; Neyther each ryming Slaue Deserues the Name to haue Of Poet: so the Rabble Of Fooles, for the Table, That haue their Iests by Heart, As an Actor his Part, Might assume them Chayres Amongst the Muses Heyres. Parnassus is not clome By euery such Mome; Vp whose steep side who swerues, It behoues t' haue strong Nerues: My Resolution such, How well, and not how much To write, thus doe I fare, Like some few good that care (The euill sort among) How well to liue, and not how long.