The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed With a Memoir by the Rev. Derwent Coleridge. Fourth Edition. In Two Volumes |
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 | The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed |  |
404
XIV. BELLROPE
When Ralph by holy hands was tied
For life to blooming Cis,
Sir Thrifty too drove home his bride,
A fashionable Miss.
That day my First with jovial sound
Proclaimed the happy tale,
And drunk was all the country round
With pleasure or with ale.
For life to blooming Cis,
Sir Thrifty too drove home his bride,
A fashionable Miss.
That day my First with jovial sound
Proclaimed the happy tale,
And drunk was all the country round
With pleasure or with ale.
Oh! why should Hymen ever blight
The roses Cupid wore?
Or why should it be ever night
Where it was day before?—
Or why should women have a tongue?
Or why should it be curst
In being, like my Second, long,
And louder than my First?
The roses Cupid wore?
Or why should it be ever night
Where it was day before?—
Or why should women have a tongue?
Or why should it be curst
In being, like my Second, long,
And louder than my First?
405
“You blackguard!” cries the rural wench,
My Lady screams—“Ah! bête!”
And Lady Thrifty scolds in French,
And Cis in Billingsgate;
Till both their Lords my Second try
To end connubial strife,
Sir Thrifty has the means to die,
And Ralph, to beat his wife!
My Lady screams—“Ah! bête!”
And Lady Thrifty scolds in French,
And Cis in Billingsgate;
Till both their Lords my Second try
To end connubial strife,
Sir Thrifty has the means to die,
And Ralph, to beat his wife!
| The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | |