University of Virginia Library

III. The Apprentice.

Time mend thy pace, thy sands but slowly run;
Eight weeks seem longer then eight twelve moneths gone:
Sure th' art asleep, thou dost not make such hast
To help me as thou hast done in times past.
Stay'st thou to hear the Syrens whilst they sing?
Or has the rust of age impair'd thy wing?
Have I affronted thee? did I declare
Thy faults, and set them out in secular?
Did I e're babble that the times were bad?
Or did I grumble at the tricks you had?
No, I have prais'd you, and was ever free
To glosse you out with an apology.
Why then this sloth? (dull Mower) can it be
That with revenge you'l pay a courtesie?
Now I've most need of Time, & fain would hug him,
His forehead's grown so bald I cannot lug him.
If thou art sick, then prethee wear a cap;
For I am fearfull thou hast got a clap,
Thy loyns are grown so stiff; and thou dost creep
As though the primum mobile were asleep.
I prethee rouze thy spirits, and let slip
Some gentle gale on my apprenticeship.
I see the haven, but if thou deprive
Me of thine aid, I never shall arrive.
But why should I petition to a soul
Impenetrable, that will not condole
The saddest sorrows; nor concede unto
The strongest prayers, or the deepest Oh?
Ile wait thy motion, be it slow or fast;
I know thou canst not but conclude at last:
And when th' art ended, Ile detest thee more
Then ere I gave thee honour heretofore.
Oh here's my grief, this smothers all my joy;
I can but say I am a prentice-boy
I must be ready at each beck and call,
And if I fail, my bones must pay for all.
And this is long of thee (Time) wert thou ended,
Then all these misdemeanours would be mended.
But Ile take courage, and make woes divine,
With sacred Nectar and Falernian wine:
For I have studied Physick, and am sure
I've no disaster but what wine will cure: