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A Collection of Emblemes

Ancient and Moderne: Quickened VVith Metricall Illvstrations, both Morall and Divine: And disposed into Lotteries, That Instruction, and Good Counsell, may bee furthered by an Honest and Pleasant Recreation. By George Wither

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Illvstr. XIX


Illvstr. XIX

[Good Folkes, take heede; for, here's a wanton Wagge]

Be wary, whosoe're thou be,
For, from Loves arrowes, none are free.

Good Folkes, take heede; for, here's a wanton Wagge,
Who, having Bowes and Arrowes, makes his bragg
That, he hath some unhappy trick to play;
And, vowes to shoot at all he meets to day.
Pray be not carelesse; for, the Boy is blinde,
And, sometimes strikes, where most he seemeth kinde.
This rambling Archer spares nor one, nor other:
Yea, otherwhile, the Monkey shoots his Mother.
Though you be little Children, come not neere;
For, I remember (though't be many a yeare
Now gone and past,) that, when I was a Lad,
My Heart, a pricke, by this young Wanton had,
That, pain'd me seven yeares after: nor had I
The grace (thus warn'd) to scape his waggery;
But many times, ev'n since I was a man,
He shot me, oftner then I tell you can:
And, if I had not bene the stronger-hearted,
I, for my over-daring, might have smarted.
You laugh now, as if this were nothing so;
But, if you meet this Blinkard with his Bow,
You may, unlesse you take the better care,
Receive a wound, before you be aware.
I feare him not; for, I have learned how
To keepe my heart-strings from his Arrowes now:
And, so might you, and so might ev'ry one
That vaine Occasions, truely seekes to shunn.
But, if you sleight my Counsells, you may chance
To blame at last, your willfull ignorance:
For, some, who thought, at first, his wounds but small
Have dyed by them, in an Hospitall.