Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457096" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Epistle To Fleetwood Shephard, Esq.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When crowding folks, with strange ill faces,<br>Were making legs, and begging places,<br>And some with patents, some with merit, <br>Tired out my good Lord Dorset's spirit:<br>Sneaking I stood amongst the crew,<br>Desiring much to speak with you.<br>I waited while the clock struck thrice,<br>And footman brought out fifty lies;<br>Till, patience vex'd, and legs grown weary,<br>I thought it was in vain to tarry!<br>But did opine it might be better,<br>By penny-post to send a letter;<br>Now, if you miss of this epistle,<br>I'm baulk'd again, and may go whistle.<br>My business, Sir, you'll quickly guess, <br>Is to desire some little place;<br>And fair pretensions I have for't, <br>Much need, and very small desert.<br>Whene'er I writ to you, I wanted;<br>I always begg'd, you always granted.<br>Now, as you took me up when little, <br>Gave me my learning and my vittle;<br>Ask'd for me, from my lord, things fitting,<br>Kind as I'd been your own begetting;<br>Confirm what formerly you've given,<br>Nor leave me now at six and seven,<br>As Sunderland has left Mun Stephen.<br>No family, that takes a whelp<br>When first he laps, and scarce can yelp,<br>Neglects or turns him out of gate<br>When he's grown up to dog's estate:<br>No parish, if they once adopt<br>The spurious brats by strollers dropp'd,<br>Leave them, when grown up lusty fellows,<br>To, the wide world, that is, the gallows:<br>No thank them for their love, that's worse,<br>Than if they'd throttled them at nurse.<br>My uncle, rest his soul! when living,<br>Might have contrived me ways of thriving;<br>Taught me with cyder to replenish<br>My vats, or ebbing tide of Rhenish.<br>So when for hock I drew prickt white-wine,<br>Swear't had the flavour, and was right wine.<br>Or sent me with ten pounds to Furni-<br>val's Inn, to some good rogue attorney;<br>Where now, by forging deeds, and cheating,<br>I'd found some handsome ways of getting.<br>All this you made me quit, to follow <br>That sneaking whey-faced god Apollo;<br>Sent me among a fiddling crew<br>Of folks, I'd never seen nor knew,<br>Calliope, and God knows who,<br>To add no more invectives to i,<br>You spoil'd the youth, to make a poet.<br>In common justice, Sir, there's no man<br>That makes the whore, but keeps the woman.<br>Amongst all honest Christian people,<br>Whoe'er breaks limbs, maintains the cripple.<br>The sum of all I have to say,<br>Is, that you'll put me in some way;<br>And your petitioner shall pray--<br>There's one thing more I had almost slipt,<br>But that may do as well in postscript:<br>My friend Charles Montague's preferr'd;<br>Nor would I have it long observed,<br>That one mouse eats, while t'other starved.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Matthew+Prior">Matthew Prior</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<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=457096" data-title="An Epistle To Fleetwood Shephard, Esq. de Matthew Prior" data-description="When crowding folks, with strange ill faces,
Were making legs, and begging places,
And some with patents, some with merit, 
Tired out my good Lord Dorset's spirit:
Sneaking I stood amongst the crew,
Desiring much to speak with you.
I waited while ..."></div>
</div>
</div>