Nor e'er can  Poets prove,
Where lies the real Seat of Love.
they burn, and  they pierce,
As either best supplies their Verse:
And, if Folks ask the Reason for't,
Say, one was long, and t'other short.
Thus, I presume, the  Muse,
May take the Freedom Strangers use.
In Prose our Property is greater:
Why should it then be less in Metre?
If  throws a single Dart;
We make him wound the Lover's :
But if He takes his Bow, and Quiver;
'Tis sure, He must transfix the :
For Rhime with Reason may dispense;
And Sound has Right to govern Sense.