Did I, my lines intend for publick view,
How many censures, wou’d their faults persue,
Some wou’d, because such words they do affect,
Cry they’re insipid, empty, uncorrect.
And many, have attain’d, dull and untaught
The name of Witt, only by finding fault.
True judges, might condemn their want of witt,
And all might say, they’re by a Woman writt.
Written by a woman who knows her poetry will be
criticized. She is not shocked and she doesn’t care.
From A Poem A Day: United Kingdom, Ireland & Continental Islands
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