Prologue To Sir Martin Marr-All.
By John Dryden
Fools, which each man meets in his dish each day, Are yet the great regalios of a play; In which to poets you but just appear, To prize that highest, which cost them so dear: Fops in the town more easily will pass; One story makes a statutable ass: But such in plays must be much thicker sown, Like yolks of eggs, a dozen beat to one. Observing poets all their walks invade, As men watch woodcocks gliding through a glade: And when they have enough for comedy, They stow their several bodies in a pie: The poet's but the cook to fashion it, For, gallants, you yourselves have found the wit. To bid you welcome, would your bounty wrong; None welcome those who bring their cheer along.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Fools, which each man meets in his dish each day,..."
"Prologue To Sir Martin Marr-All." is a quintessential example of John Dryden's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...