Tyros Roring Megge Planted against the walles of Melancholy. One Booke cut into two Decads [by T. Tyro] |
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Epig. 3. |
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 | Tyros Roring Megge |  |
Epig. 3.
VVhat though Albertus be a merry man,May I not take the floure, and leaue the bran?
Let him be baudie (as he is indeed)
May I not choose the flower, and scorne the weed?
What though vnseemly secrets he disclose,
May I not hide mine eyes, and stop my nose?
Great All-beard, rough with thy luxurious hide,
Ile be thy scholer whatsoe're betide.
Ile be Acute, and Graue, and Circumflex
In the deepe dealings of the female sex.
And yet I will not. What? shall Tyro be
A Prentice to the trade of midwiferie?
Hence bolde bad Albert, pleasing baite of sinne.
Bellowes of lust to him that reades the rein.
I would not for a pecke of Tagus sand,
My Tutour had espyed thee in my hand.
I rest thy foe, deferring thy damnation,
But till I make a Theame or Declamation.
| Tyros Roring Megge | |