Classic Poem

The Epilogue at Court.

We have nothing left us but our blushes now
For your much pennance, and though we allow
Our feares no Comfort, since you must appeare
Iudges Corrupt, if not to us severe:
Yet in your Majestie we hope to finde
A mercy; and in that our pardon sign'd.
And how can we despaire you will forgive
Them who would please, when oft offenders live;
And if we have er'd, may not the Curteous say;
Twas not their trade, and but the Authors Play.

The Epilogue at Court.

We have nothing left us but our blushes now
For your much pennance, and though we allow
Our feares no Comfort, since you must appeare
Iudges Corrupt, if not to us severe:
Yet in your Majestie we hope to finde
A mercy; and in that our pardon sign'd.
And how can we despaire you will forgive
Them who would please, when oft offenders live;
And if we have er'd, may not the Curteous say;
Twas not their trade, and but the Authors Play.