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Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets

With variety of other drolling Verses upon several Subjects. Composed by no body must know whom, and are to be had every body knows where, and for somebody knows what [by John Eliot]
 

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A Lady walking with the Author in her Garden, pluckt a sprig of Bayes, and put it in his Hat to wear as her Favour.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A Lady walking with the Author in her Garden, pluckt a sprig of Bayes, and put it in his Hat to wear as her Favour.

You gave me Laurel Madam, which some call Bayes,
I gave you but your right, when I gave you praise,
Why then with injury do you requite me?
Which being true, doubtles you ought to right me.
Laurel belongs to Conquerours, but I
Your Captive am, and at your mercy lye.
Poets are crown'd with Bayes, and such alone
Whose Muses higher soar then Phaeton.
My humble rimes flow from an abject Herd,
And cannot Laurel merit for reward:
The honoured Browes that are with such wreaths crown'd
Dread neither lightning nor loud thunders sound.
Then lest your favours down to th'Earth should cast me,
Or your bright eyes lightning thus should blast me
I'll crown that Laurel with which you now crown me,
With a chast kisse, as your choice Deputie.