Special Pleading
Gentle, it is my wont, when newly writ
A sonnet, madrigal, or ode, to show
The same to Emily, that I may know
By her sweet face (taste’s dial) if in it
Be aught unworthy of a poet’s fit;
And with the knittings of her altered brow,
Or with the playful smiles that come and go,
I hold no parle but instantly commit,
Or not, such brain-work to the flames. Thus, Sir,
I now beseech, in Courtesy’s good name,
Where there is need thou wilt but gently blame,
Seeing that half the fault belongs to her;
Yet speak thy best praise freely when ‘t is due,
Since one kind word for her, to me is two.
Gentle, it is my wont, when newly writ
A sonnet, madrigal, or ode, to show
The same to Emily, that I may know
By her sweet face (taste’s dial) if in it
Be aught unworthy of a poet’s fit;
And with the knittings of her altered brow,
Or with the playful smiles that come and go,
I hold no parle but instantly commit,
Or not, such brain-work to the flames. Thus, Sir,
I now beseech, in Courtesy’s good name,
Where there is need thou wilt but gently blame,
Seeing that half the fault belongs to her;
Yet speak thy best praise freely when ‘t is due,
Since one kind word for her, to me is two.