University of Virginia Library

EPIGRAMS.

On a simple Gentleman which spake in dispraise of Poetry.

A gentleman, for want of education,
Said Epigrams, and Poems, were but toyes.
And in his judgement and small estimation,
Are only fit for Girles, and for Boyes:
Another standing by that wished well
To Poetry, and lov'd a witty Rhime,
Your judgement Sir, alas what can you tell?
Thus 'tis to cast a Pearl before a Swine,
Pray hold your peace, for Poets hold it fit,
That Ignorance must not be Judge of Wit.

On my want of Money.

VVhat though I want Pecunia, what of it,
I never passed such a merry age,
As when I did employ my little wit,
To free my self of this sad Pilgrimage,
But by experience I find Poetry,
'Tis sad to tell, shakes hands with poverty.

On a Vintner

A vintner on a time did me perswade
To make an Epigram upon his Trade,
Only the love of Sack did make me write.
They're glad to see men drop, but will not fight,
And yet are alwaies Drawing, which implies,
When others fall, such Knaves as they do rise.

On a Lawyers Wife.

A lawyer did complain unto his Wife,
He ne're had such a Tearm in all his life;
Content your self (quoth she) but this Vacation,
And the next Tearm I'le use my Occupation,
For with my Little Common Law I've found
A trick in Plea, to get me many a pound.

On a Taylor.

A taylor that for me had made a Suit,
'Twas Allamode, and all things fitting to't,
But when I put it on, I was in wrath,
Telling the Rascall he had stole my Cloth,
It is too short said I, thou'st made it ill,
Be pleas'd (quoth he) I'le length'nt with my Bill.

On a Poetaster.

A poetaster of our latter times
Began to versefy upon the Vine
He ask't me my oppinion of his rhimes:
I told him they were very like our wine
What do you mean quoth he are they not good:
Yes Passing good said I, if understood.

On Frenetta.

Frenetta is a gamster most men know,
Yee she will venture all on a good cast:
And though her fortune be but bad at throw
She hopes to keep an oppen point at last,
Then be as fortunate, as e're you can,
Frenetta's sure to carry the first Man.

On a Deboist Scoller.

Scollasticus with much Phillosophy,
Began to praise the University?
And after three years study now he see's
That he is able for to take degrees
All men that know him, see that he is able
At Tavern, Tenness, Dice, and Biliard-table
For by degrees, he'ath learnt a way of late,
To spend a very fair, and large estate.

On a Coukold.

Old Curno, and his young new married Wife
Had ne're a quiet hour in all their life
For in their Jarring, this is still his noat
Telling his wife, she was not worth a groat
Thou ly'st quoth she, for thou hast more with me
Then ever I am like to have by thee,
Why, what, you base confounded Whore quoth he
Nornes, Coukold, Knave, if I a Whore must be.

On a Duble Marraige

Sir Seldom-Sober, and his eldest Son;
Came to Sir. Idle-Spend thrifts dwelling place
After the Cerremonies all were done,
Young Sober ask't to see his Daughter Grace.
Is that your errand Sir (quoth Spendthrift) here
She hath not been with me I know not when,
Nor yet with us quoth Sober for I swear,
I've seen her not this twenty years and ten;
Pardon me then quoth Spendthrif, you must tary
For Cosen Jermans are forbid to Marry.

On a Zealous Brother.

Rotundus prayeth much and singeth Psalmes
Gives to the poor, but will not have it known
And when that he distributeth his Almes:
No Trumpet shall within his gate be blown:
By this the world may plainly Judge and see
Rotundus is not what he seems to be.

On a Lawyer.

A lawyer is a man, I know not how
For to discribe him right as I should do,
For if a man another chance to sue,
He's for the Plaintif and Defendant too?
And though I'me cheated yet unto his face
God bless your worship, how goes on my cause
Why well quoth he, povided that this Bill
Be sattisfyed, or else it may go ill;
They are the painful'st men in all the nation
And why, they ca'nt abide a long Vacation:
Yet if my cause be spoild, he must be prais'd
Give them good Tearmes and then the Knaves are pleas'd

On a Shoemaker.

Crispianus with another would contend
His trade, and Calling ne're should have an End
'Tis strange that Crispianus So will strive,
For why without his Ends he canot live,
Yet though he Waxeth poor it is confest
His trade will holde unto the very Last,

On Mistress Florella.

Mistress Florella had a Plat of Land
Intail'd to her so long as she did live,
An honest fellow that did understand
She would dispose it, ask'd what he should give,
Florella understood the Fellow had,
A Pole of Ground would fit her to a hair,
Why Sir quoth she, I shall be very glad
T'exchange, if that your evidence be fair,
The woman shew'd a trial on record,
And would join Issue with him if he please,
The Fellow could not stand unto his word,
And yet he found it was an o en Case,
Your title's lame said she, you cannot seal,
For you your self are Tenant but in Tail.

On a Holy Sister.

A holy Sister that did seldome erre,
Walking abroad upon a Lecture-day,
Did meet a very zealous Presbiter,
Who sware to try her, e're he went away;
Nay, fie, ah sad, ver'ly indeed forsooth,
I would not do it, but to save your oath.

On a Puny Scholler.

A puny Schollar that had got degree,
Would take a journey for his recreation,
Into the Countrey, took the liberty
To preach, his Text was in the Lamentations;
The Fellow never from his Text did fall,
For the whole work was Lamentable all.

On Hunters.

Hunters are men of a strange constitution,
For most loue peace, they bawling and confusion;
It is not possible Hunters can thrive,
That make themselves such pris'ners while they live,
For why, the Hunters doth himself confine
Unto a cursed Kennell all his time,
And in the end perchance Acteon's fate
Falls on his head, and eates up his Estate.

On Falconers.

Falkners for whooping, hollowing, whisling, I
Do think they be born mad, and so will die.
Yet I confess it is a Noble fight;
To set a Hawk to make a gallant flight,
Were't not that in the end unhappily,
The Hawk, and fortunes both away do fly.

On a Poet.

Should I forbear to write an Epigram
Upon a Poet, this, or th'other man
Might pick a quarrell, asking what are you
That write these Epigrams, a Poet too,
Peace Buzzard, peace for fear I do pronounce
Another Epigram upon a Dunce,
The worst that Blockheads dare to speak of it,
Poets are (poor in person) rich in wit.

The Unfortunate Lover.

The Conclusion.

Like to a Ship that now involv'd must be
In th'Abiss of all profundity,
When a Charibdiss sends a cruell Billow
To intimate his thundring neighbur Seilla,
To entertain the Wrack, or like a man
That just before his death, sings with the Swan:
So it is now with me; I Versefy,
And Carroll out my dying Tragedy.
'Twas Amorea, it was only she,
The sole effect of my lov'd destinie:
'Twas she alone that could the sentence give,
And after judgement grant a sweet reprieve;
'Twas she at first, that stole my liberty,
Making it captive, which was born free,
'Twas she that did command me for to prove,
And write the best of passions, which is Love:
'Twas she that set my senses all at strife,
'Tis she that can, but will not save a life,
'Tis she my thoughts have put in a confusion,
'Tis she presented me with this conclusion,
'Twa she that scorned such a love as mine is,
'Tis she hath gi'n my Love and Book a