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During these troubles in the court was hid
BALLAD ON A WEDDING. One that Apollo soon miss’d, little Cid;
I tell thee, Dick, where I have been, And having spy'd him, call'd him out of the throng,
Where I the rarest things have seen: And advis'd him in his ear not to write so strong.
Oh things without compare!
Such sights again cannot be found Murrey was summon’d, but 'twas urg'd, that he In any place on English ground, Was chief already of another company.
Be it at wake, or fair. Hales set by himself most gravely did smile
At Charing-Cross, hard by the way
Where we (thou know'st) do sell our hay, To see them about nothing keep such a coil;
There is a house with stairs; Apollo had spy'd him, but knowing his mind
And there did I see coming down Past by, and call’d Falkland, that sate just behind:
Such folks as are not in our town,
Vorty at least, in pairs.
Amongst the rest, one pest'lent fine, Though, to say the truth, and Apollo did know it, (His beard no bigger though than thine) He might have been both his priest and his poet.
Walk'd on before the rest:
Our landlord looks like nothing to him: At length who but an Alderman did appear,
The king (God bless him) 'twou'd undo him, At which Will Davenant began to swear;
Shou'd he go still so drest.
At Course-a-park, without all doubt,
By all the maids i' th' town: He openly declar'd, that the best sign
Though lusty Roger there had been, Of good store of wit's to have good store of coin, Or little George upon the green, And without a syllable more or less said,
Or Vincent of the crown. He put the laurel on the Alderman's head.
But wot you what? the youth was going At this all the wits were in such amaze
To make an end of all his wooing ; That, for a good while, they did nothing but gaze
The parson for him staid: One upon another; not a man in the place
Yet by his leave, for all his haste, But had discontent writ at large in his face.
He did not so much wish all past
(Perchance) as did the maid. Only the small poets cheer'd up again,
The maid-and thereby hangs a tale-
Could ever yet produce:
No grape that's kindly ripe, could be
Nor half so full of juice.
Pr’ythee why so pale?
Looking ill prevail ?
Her finger was so small, the ring
It was too wide a peck:
About our young colt's neck.
As if they fear'd the light:
Is half so fine a sight.
Why so dull and mute, young sinner?
Pr’ythee why so mute?
Saying nothing do't?
Quit, quit for shame! this will not move,
This cannot take her;
Nothing can make her :-
He wou'd have kiss'd her once or twice,
She wou'd not do't in sight;
And you shall do't at night.
Her cheeks so rare a white was on,
By this time all were stol'n aside, No daizy makes comparison,
To counsel and undress the bride; (Who sees them is undone)
But that he must not know: For streaks of red were mingled there,
But yet 'twas thought he guest her mind,
And did not mean to stay behind
Above an hour or so.
When I had done what man could do,
Take up the time; all strive to be And thought the place mine own,
Masters of truth, as victory: The enemy lay quiet too,
And were you come, I'd boldly swear And smil'd at all was done.
A synod might as eas'ly err.
When I am hungry I do eat,
She's fair, &c.
A gentle round fill'd to the brink, To this and t’other friend I drink; And if 'tis nam'd another's health, I never make it her's by stealth:
She's fair, &c.
Blackfriars to me, and old Whitehall,
She's fair, &c.
TO A FRIEND. Sir, Whether these lines do find you out, Putting or clearing of a doubt; (Whether Predestination, Or reconciling Three in One, Or the unriddling how men die, And live at once eternally, Now take you up) know 'tis decreed You straight bestride the college steed. Leave Socinus and the schoolmen, (Which Jack Bond swears do but fool men) And come to town; 'tis fit you shew Yourself abroad, that men may know (Whate'er some learned men have guest) That oracles are not yet ceasid: There you shall find the wit and wine Flowing alike, and both divine: Dishes, with names not known in books, And less amongst the college cooks, With sauce so poignant that you need Not stay till hunger bids you feed. The sweat of learned Jonson's brain, And gentle Shakespear's easier strain A hackney-coach conveys you to, In spite of all that rain can do: And for your eighteen-pence you sit The lord and judge of all fresh wit. News in one day as much as we've here As serves all Windsor for a year; And which the carrier brings to you, After t'has here been found not true. Then think what company's design'd To meet you here, men so refin'd, Their very common talk at board, Makes wise, or mad, a young court lord: And makes him capable to be Umpire in's father's company. Where no disputes nor forc'd defence Of a man's person for his sense
I visit, talk, do business, play,
She's fair, &c.
Hast thou seen the down in the air,
When wanton blasts have tost it? Or the ship on the sea,
When ruder winds have crost it?
Or the foxes sleeping ?
Or the dove by his bride,
When he courts for his leachery? Ols! so fickle, oh! so vain,oh! so false, so false is she!
We short'ned days to moments by Love's art, Thou vermin slander, bred in abject minds,
Whilst our two souls in amorous ecstasy Of thoughts impure, by vile tongues animate,
Perceiv'd no passing time, as if a part Canker of conversation! could'st thou find
Our love had been of still eternity; Nought but our love whereon to shew thy hate?
Much less could have it from the purer fire, Thou never wert, when we two were alone;
Our heat exhales no vapour from coarse sense, What canst thou witness then : thou base dull aid Such as are hopes, or fears, or fond desire; Wast useless in our conversation,
Our mutual love itself did recompense : Where each meant more than could by both be said. Thou hast no correspondence had in heav'n, Whence hadst thou thy intelligence, from earth?
And th' elemental world, thou see'st, is free: That part of us ne'er knew that we did love;
Whence hadst thou then this, talking monster? even Or from the air: our gentle sighs had birth
From hell, a harbour fit for it and thee. From such sweet raptures as to joy did move:
Curst be th' officious tongue that did address Our thoughts, as pure as the chaste morning's breath,
Thee to her ears, to ruin my content:
May it one minute taste such happiness,
I must forbear her sight, and so repay
Each minute I will lengthen to a day,