Couplets On Wit

I But our Great Turks in wit must reign alone And ill can bear a Brother on the Throne. II Wit is like faith by such warm Fools profest Who to be saved by one, must damn the rest. III Some who grow dull religious strait commence And gain in morals what they lose in sence. IV Wits starve as useless to a Common weal While Fools have places purely for their Zea. V Now wits gain praise by copying other wits As one Hog lives on what another sh---. VI Wou'd you your writings to some Palates fit Purged all you verses from the sin of wit For authors now are so conceited grown They praise no works but what are like their own.