Classic Poem

Dear Captain
Want, the great Master of three greater things,
Art, Strength, and boldness, gives this letter wings
To kiss (that is salute) you and say A B
To his renowned Captain S P D
And to request three greater things then those,
Things that beget good verse, and Stubborn prose
The first is drink, which you did promise, would
Inform the brain; as well as warm the blood,
Drink that's as powerfull and strong as Hector ,
And as inspiring as the old Poets Nectar,
That dares confront the legislative sack,
And lends more greek then your grave patriarch
But you may see here's none, for if that I,
Had been well wet, these had not been so dry.
The next is mony; which you said should be
Paid, and it may be 'twas, but not to me
Why (Friend) d'you think a man as big about
As I, can live on promises, without
Good drink or mony? how'll good sack be had?
And who can live without sack, or with bad?
What e're your Accademicks talk or teach,
Mind what they do, they mind not what they preach
In publick they may rail at Pope and Turk,
And at the layeties avarice have a Firck,
And say their aim is all to save the soul,
But that Soul's mony, which does all controul
Which I do only by the want on't know,
But when it comes thou'lt see 'twill wonders do
The third is wit, which you affirmed here,
Was in your Mines, and digg'd up every where
Jests, Verses, Tales, Puns, Satyrs, Quibbles too,
And certain Bristoll words that like wit show
But none on't comes as yet, and all I see,
Is you've the wit to keep it all from me
'Tis troublesome and costly to have much.
And if you had it, you would never grutch
Your needy Friend a little; prithee do
Send me the last, and I'le get t'other two.