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Comedies, Tragi-comedies, With other Poems

by Mr William Cartwright ... The Ayres and Songs set by Mr Henry Lawes

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To Mr W. B. at the Birth of his first Child.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


207

To Mr W. B. at the Birth of his first Child.

Y'are now transcrib'd, and Publike View
Perusing finds the Coppy true,
Without Erratas new crept in,
Fully Compleat and Genuine:
And nothing wanting can espy,
But only Bulk and Quantity:
The Text in Letters small we see,
And the Arts in one Epitome.
O what pleasure do you take
To hear the Nurse discovery make,
How the Nose, the Lip, the Eye,
The Forehead full of Majesty,
Shews the Father? how to this
The Mothers Beauty added is:
And after all with gentle Numbers
To wooe the Infant into Slumbers.
And these delights he yields you now,
The Swath, and Cradle, this doth shew:
But hereafter when his force
Shall wield the Rattle, and the Horse;
When his ventring Tongue shall speak
All Synalæphæes, and shall break
This word short off, and make that two,
Pratling as Obligations do;
'Twill ravish the delighted Sense
To view these sports of Innocence,
And make the wisest dote upon
Such pretty Imperfection.

208

These hopeful Cradles promise such
Future Goodness, and so much,
That they prevent my Prayers, and I
Must wish but for formality.
I wish Religion timely be
Taught him with his A B C.
I wish him Good and Constant Health,
His Father's learning, but more VVealth;
And that to use, not Hoard; a Purse
Open to bless, not shut to curse.
May he have many, and fast, friends,
Meaning Good-will, not private Ends,
Such as scorn to understand,
VVhen they name Love, a peece of Land.
May the Swath and VVhistle be
The hardest of his Bonds. May he
Have no sad Cares to break his sleep,
Nor other Cause, than now, to weep.
May he ne'r live to be again,
VVhat he is now, a Child: May Pain
If it do visit, as a Guest
Only call in, not dare to rest.