Trivial poems and triolets. Written in obedience to Mrs Tomkin's commands, By Patrick Carey |
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[Surely now I'me out of danger] |
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 | Trivial poems |  |
[Surely now I'me out of danger]
1
Surely now I'me out of danger,And noe more need feare my heart;
Who loves thus to bee a ranger,
Nere will fix in any part;
All the graces
Of fayre faces
I have seene, and yett am free:
I like many, but not any
Shall subdue my libertee.
9
2
Anne was once the word which moouedMost my heart, I'le itt auuow;
Twelue att least soe call'd, I'ue loued,
But I care not for them now:
Yett if euer
I endeauour
For a mistresse, that's her name;
These are fancyes,
But with Nancyes
Luckiest still hath beene my flame.
3
With three Bettyes I was taken;Yett noe more, then whilst in sight:
One of them is now forsaken,
And her sister has her right.
To'other's pritty,
But (what pitty!)
In a castle she is penn'd:
The third plenty
Has for twenty,
But she's courted by my friend.
4
Lucyes there are two; for beauty,Vertue, witt, beyond compare:
Th'one's too high for loue, in duety
I respect, but noe more dare:
As for t'other,
Though a mother
(As I take't) to halfe a score;
Had she tarryed
To bee marryed,
Shee'd have had one suitour more.
10
5
I know two, and each a Mary,One's the greatest of this land:
Th'Oxford-vintner made mee wary
Least I should a gazing stand.
Though I like her,
Most unlike her
Is the secound; and I sweare,
Had her portion
Some proportion
With my wants, I'de marry there.
6
Katherne has a lippe that's ruddy,Swelling soe, itt seemes to poute;
How to kisse her I did studdy,
But could neuer bring't about.
Beauteous Frances
Loues romances,
But (alasse!) shee's now a wife;
She makes uerses,
And reherses
With great grace Primaleon's life.
7
Doll has purest brests, much whiterThen their milck, but naked still;
That's the reason why I slight her,
For I'ue seene them to my fill.
Jane is slender,
But God send her
Lesse opinion of her race!
Nell's soe spotted
That sh' has blotted
Allmost out, her little face.
11
8
Peg is blith; but O she tattles;Nothing's soe demure as Ruth.
Susan's head is full of rattles,
Rachell preacheth well in truth.
Were not Tolly
Melancholly,
She hath parts I most could prize:
Amorous Sophy
Reares noe trophy
On my heart, with her gray eyes.
9
Thus I still find somewhat wanting,Allways full of iffs, or ands;
Where there's beauty, money's scanting;
Something still my choice withstands.
'Tis my fortune,
I'le importune
With noe my prayers my destiny:
If I'me scorned,
I'me not horned;
That's some joy in misery.
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