An Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, Humour, Railery, Satire, and Ridicule, page 9 by Corbyn Morris
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rformances upon the same Subject, that every Variation of mine from their Suffrage, and the Reasons upon which I have grounded it, may clearly appear.
The following Ode upon WIT is written by Mr. Cowley.
ODE of WIT.
I.
Tell me, oh tell!, what kind of Thing is WIT, Thou who Master art of it; For the first Matter loves Variety _less_; Less Women love't, either in Love or Dress. A thousand diff'rent Shapes it bears, Comely in thousand Shapes appears; Yonder we saw it plain, and here 'tis now, Like Spirits in a Place, we know not how.
II.
London, that vents of false Ware so much Store, In no Ware deceives us more; For Men, led by the Colour, and the Shape, Like _Zeuxis' Bird_, fly to the painted Grape. Some things do through our Judgment pass, As through a _Multiplying Glass_: And sometimes, if the Object be too far, We take a falling Meteor for a Star.
III.
Hence 'tis a Wit, that greatest Word of Fame, Grows such a common Name; And Wits, by our Creation, they become; Just so as _Tit'lar Bishops_ made at Rome. 'Tis not a Tale, 'tis not a Jest, Admir'd with Laughter at a Feast, Nor florid Talk which can that Title gain; The Proofs of Wit for ever must remain.
IV.
'Tis not to force some Lifeless Verses meet, With their five gouty Feet. All ev'ry where, like _Man's_, must be the Soul, And Reason the _inferior Pow'rs_ controul. Such were the Numbers which could call The Stones into the Theban Wall. Such Miracles are ceas'd, and now we see No Towns or Houses rais'd by _Poetry.
V.
Yet 'tis not to adorn, and gild each Part, That shews more Cost than Art. Jewels at