A SONG APOLOGETIC <br /> <br />Men, if you love us, play no more <br />The fools or tyrants with your friends, <br />To make us still sing o'er and o'er <br />Our own false praises, for your ends: <br />We have both wits and fancies too, <br />And, if we must, let's sing of you. <br /> <br />Nor do we doubt but that we can, <br />If we would search with care and pain, <br />Find some one good in some one man; <br />So going thorough all your strain, <br />We shall, at last, of parcels make <br />One good enough for a song's sake. <br /> <br />And as a cunning painter takes, <br />In any curious piece you see, <br />More pleasure while the thing he makes, <br />Than when 'tis made--why so will we. <br />And having pleased our art, we'll try <br />To make a new, and hang that by.<br /><br />Ben Jonson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-person-of-womankind/
