In Imitation Of Anacreon
Let 'em Censure: what care I? The Herd of Criticks I defie. Let the Wretches know, I write Regardless of their Grace, or Spight. No, no: the Fair, the Gay, the Young Govern the Numbers of my Song. All that They approve is sweet: And All is Sense, that They repeat. Bid the warbling Nine retire: Venus, String thy Servant's Lyre: Love shall be my endless Theme: Pleasure shall triumph over Fame: And when these Maxims I decline, Apollo, may Thy Fate be Mine: May I grasp at empty Praise; And lose the Nymph, to gain the Bays.
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"Let 'em Censure: what care I?..."
"In Imitation Of Anacreon" is a quintessential example of Matthew Prior's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...