Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets With variety of other drolling Verses upon several Subjects. Composed by no body must know whom, and are to be had every body knows where, and for somebody knows what [by John Eliot] |
To his friend. Mr. B. archd: of N.
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Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets | ||
To his friend. Mr. B. archd: of N.
Let me enjoy you, for I faine wou'd knowIf still you look like one of us or no:
Is not your former pleasing form off stript
Since when your Worship was arch-deaconship't?
Quakes not your head-piece with ingotten winde,
Or swells and burst your night-caps all behind?
Or are you to the Velvet day-caps come
As fits Episcopabilissimum?
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Poor Tom beneath with an impetuous frowne.
Burn your disdainfull eys, or sweetly move
(As earst) and gently shine on those you love?
Is not your nose suspended or awrie,
And since t'was archt, exalts it self on high;
Blesse me! what daintie proper men of late
By wealths convulsion, or a pang of state
Have I seen chang'd (as once by Circe's cup.)
And to a beastlie figure quite run up.
Poor Cambridge Snakes that use to creep and lick
The bubling spume of my then Rhetorique,
And cling in amarous folds my verse to hear,
Verse that at once could please, and keep in fear;
Now fierie flying dragon doctors are
That warm'd with Prebends and fat steeples dare
Both hisse and sting: For me, t'is state enough
To hisse, or creep in their forgoten slough
Practice and contemplations, I agree
Should rise; let that a Banging B B be
Whiles this shines West: yet may no crime attaint
The first; but like the second, live a saint.
Alas! the churches tayle is lost in drinke,
While Pot and Pipe are made their pen, and ink,
And if the Jowle in pride be pickled too
What shall the sides, the bulk, the bodie do.
Curates leave ale: leave Prelates ease and pride,
Or learn'd and Lay the Clergie will deride.
God knowes those blemishes on foot and face
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And you my Learned friend, though past the rore
Of Scillia's doggs! take heed in vent'ring ore
Charibdis gulf, where Mermaid Honour sits
On seas of danger, strow'd with rocks and pits.
Lest I when clambring over hills and dales
By North and South, your palace out in Wales
Approaching as to Phœbus burnisht roof
(Like Phaeton) be bid to stand aloof.
And scarce recovering me at second sight
You swear, good faith, I had forgot you quite:
I promis'd you a Prebend, but in troth
I am so press'd with Lords and Ladies both
That I can do you now no further grace
Then the reversion of the ninetenth place.
Nine years I have expected, (and am loth
To name him yet) a mounting B B S oath.
But if I live to write his Epitaph
It shall so weep, that all that read, shall laugh.
You cannot so decieve. Then onward march
Till to your first, you raise a second arch.
Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets | ||