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Quodlibets, lately come over from New Britaniola, Old Newfoundland. Epigrams and other small parcels both Morall and Divine

The first foure Bookes being the Authors owne: the rest translated out of that Excellent Epigrammist, Mr Iohn Owen, and other rare Authors: With two Epistles of that excellently wittie Doctor, Francis Rablais: Translated out his French at large. All of them Composed and done at Harbor-Grace in Britaniola, anciently called Newfound-Land. By R. H. [by Robert Hayman]
  

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99. To a debausht University. A Complaint against Drunkennesse.
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99. To a debausht University. A Complaint against Drunkennesse.

Thy Sonnes (most famous Mother) in old time,
To quench their thirst, Pernassus hill did clime.
Some of thy Sonnes, now thinke that hill too steepe,
Their Helliconian springs doe lye more deepe.
Their study now is, where there is good drinke,
The Spigot is their Pen, strong beere their Inke.
I could with Democrit' laugh at this sinne,
If it in any other place had bin:
But in a place where all should be decent,
A sinne so nastie, inconuenient,
So beastly, so absurd, worthy disdaine,
It straines me quite out of my merry straine.
I could with Heraclit' lament, and cry,
Or write complaints with wofull Ieremy:
Nay, much-much more, if that would expiate
What's past, or following follies extirpate.
Many rare wits hath it infatued,
Their climbing merits quite precipited,

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And hopes of ancient houses ruined.
Fooles and base sots this sinne hath made of them,
That by sobriety had beene braue men:
Yea I doe know, many wise men there be,
Which for this dare not trust their Sonnes with thee,
Fearing this Cerberus, this Dogge of Hell,
Within whose Ward all other follies dwell.
I hope, thy Sister better lookes to hers,
Indulgent Elies are thy Officers,
If they will not assist my motion,
To apply Causticks, and no Lotium;
Deare Mother, on my knees I beg this boone,
Afford this inconuenient Vice no roome,
But whip it in thy Conuocation,
Or strip it of Matriculation.