Classic Poem

Sir,
I thank you for your comedies,
Against the hipps the surest remedies.
Because Pareus wrote but sorrily
His notes, I'll read Lambinus thoroughly;
And then I shall be stoutly set agog
To challenge every Irish pedagogue.
I like your nice epistle critical,
Which does in threefold rhymes so witty fall.
Upon the comic drama and tragedy,
Your notion's right, but verses maggotty.
'Tis just an hour since I heard a man swear it,
The Devil himself could hardly answer it.
As for your friend, the sage Euripides,
I do believe you give him the slip a-days;
But mum for that — pray call a-Saturday
And dine with me; you can't a better day.
I'll give you nothing but a mutton chop,
Some nappy mellowed ale with rotten hop,
A pint of wine as good as Falern,
Which we, masters, God knows, all earn.
We'll have a friend or two at table,
Right honest men, for few are come at-able.
Then when our liquor makes us talkative,
We'll to the fields and take a walk at eve.
Because I am troubled much with laziness,
These rhymes I've chosen for their easiness.