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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419854" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Prologue To The University Of Oxford, 1674.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poets, your subjects have their parts assign'd<br>To unbend, and to divert their sovereign's mind:<br>When tired with following nature, you think fit<br>To seek repose in the cool shades of wit,<br>And, from the sweet retreat, with joy survey<br>What rests, and what is conquer'd, of the way.<br>Here, free yourselves from envy, care, and strife<br>You view the various turns of human life:<br>Safe in our scene, through dangerous courts you go,<br>And, undebauch'd, the vice of cities know <br>Your theories are here to practice brought,<br>As in mechanic operations wrought;<br>And man, the little world, before you set,<br>As once the sphere[49] of crystal show'd the great.<br>Blest, sure, are you above all mortal kind,<br>If to your fortunes you can suit your mind:<br>Content to see, and shun, those ills we show,<br>And crimes on theatres alone to know.<br>With joy we bring what our dead authors writ,<br>And beg from you the value of their wit: <br>That Shakspeare's, Fletcher's, and great Jonson's claim,<br>May be renew'd from those who gave them fame.<br>None of our living poets dare appear;<br>For Muses so severe are worshipp'd here,<br>That, conscious of their faults, they shun the eye,<br>And, as profane, from sacred places fly,<br>Rather than see the offended God, and die.<br>We bring no imperfections but our own;<br>Such faults as made are by the makers shown:<br>And you have been so kind, that we may boast, <br>The greatest judges still can pardon most.<br>Poets must stoop, when they would please our pit,<br>Debased even to the level of their wit;<br>Disdaining that, which yet they know will take,<br>Hating themselves what their applause must make.<br>But when to praise from you they would aspire,<br>Though they like eagles mount, your Jove is higher.<br>So far your knowledge all their power transcends,<br>As what _should be_ beyond what _is_ extends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Dryden">John Dryden</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419854" data-title="Prologue To The University Of Oxford, 1674. de John Dryden" data-description="Poets, your subjects have their parts assign'd
To unbend, and to divert their sovereign's mind:
When tired with following nature, you think fit
To seek repose in the cool shades of wit,
And, from the sweet retreat, with joy survey
What rests, and ..."></div>
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