Jordan(I) jc

Who says that fictions only and false hair



Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty?



Is all good structure in a winding stair?



May no lines pass, except they do their duty



Not to a true, but painted chair?





Is it no verse, except enchanted groves



And sudden arbours shadow coarse-spun lines?



Must purling streams refresh a lover's loves?



Must all be veil'd, while he that reads, divines



Catching the sense at two removes?





Shepherds are honest people; let them sing;



Riddle who list, for me, and pull for prime;



I envy no man's nightingale or spring;



Nor let them punish me with loss of rhyme



Who plainly say, my God, my King