Come on, ye critics! Find one fault who dare, br For, read it backward like a witch's prayer, br 'Twill do as well; throw not away your jests br On solid nonsense that abides all tests. br Wit, like tierce claret, when 't begins to pall, br Neglected lies and's of no use at all; br But in its full perfection of decay, br Turns vinegar and comes again in play. br This simile shall stand in thy defence br 'Gainst such dull rogues as now and then write sense. br He lies, dear Ned, who says thy brain is barren, br Where deep conceits, like vermin, breed in carrion; br Thou hast a brain, such as thou hast, indeed -- br On what else should thy worm of fancy feed? br Yet in a filbert I have often known br Maggots survive when all the kernel's gone. br Thy style's the same whatever be the theme, br As some digestions turn all meat to phlegm: br Thy stumbling, founder'd jade can trot as high br As any other Pegasus can fly. br As skillful divers to the bottom fall br Sooner than those that cannot swim at all, br So in this way of writing without thinking br Thou hast a strange alacrity in sinking: br Thou writest below e'en thy own natural parts br And with acquired dullness and new arts br Of studied nonsense tak'st kind readers' heart. br So the dull eel moves nimbler in the mud br Than all the swift-finn'd racers of the flood.