Allowing all the justice that his pride
So arrogantly had to these denied:
And may I not have leave impartially
To search and censure Dryden's works, and try
If those gross faults, his choice pen doth commit,
Proceed from want of judgment, or of wit?
Or if his lumpish fancy doth refuse
Spirit and grace to his loose slattern muse?
Five hundred verses, every morning writ,
Prove him no more a poet than a wit.