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Seauen Satyres

Applyed to the weeke, including the worlds ridiculous follyes. True faelicity described in the Phoenix. Maulgre. Whereunto is annexed the wandring Satyre. By W. Rankins
  

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SATYR. secundus. Contra Martialistam.
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SATYR. secundus. Contra Martialistam.

From the proude counsell of contrarious winds,
That keep their surly Court on mountaine tops,
I roughly come: deceptions to vnbinde,
And scatter in your eyes the vpstart crops
That true borne valor from the Cædar lops:
To tell how Mars with his stout crew is wrong'd,
By apish toyes and what to doults belong'd.
He that can weare a feather all a flaunt,
Speake in the teeth, and make a veriuyce face,
And with a pride his stubble beard but vaunt,
As if in him abounded all good grace,

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Or were descended from Ioues Princely race:
That hath but set his foote on Callis sand,
And sweare he fought with Mounsier hand to hand.
I, and perchaunce in Court hath crackt a kixe,
And thinkes he hath Bellona at commaund,
And in his bosome beares his amorous trickes,
As if loues passion brought him into band,
When loe in Misars plight the wretch doth stand:
Loath'd of the wise, not loued of his owne,
Yea fooles doe see the foole himselfe in moane.
Auerres his courage conquerd Cannas field,
And that his arme can wield great Neptunes mace
Sweares he will make the haughty foe to yeeld,
And couch like vassailes when they view his face,
What would this Asse doe in a Lyons case?
So looking big cryes out vpon S. George,
To tippling goes and fils his eagre gorge.

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What is he like but to a sucking childe,
Who immitates to speake by elder talke?
But of plaine wordes the youngling is beguilde
Because he speakes before his feete can walke,
Yet in Alcides buskins will he stalke.
Then first get teeth, speake plain, & learne the word
And time (perhaps) will reach thee draw a swoord.
And though my browes are Satyre-like betwist,
With wormwood garland, not with laurel crowne,
Yet doe I not true Martiallists resist:
Nor can I scandalize their high renowne,
That Bulwarke is too strong to batter downe.
But to these stragling humor-pleased mates
I speake, and know that truth the lyar hates.