From Poetical Recreations, 1688
XCVII
UPON A GENTLEWOMANS REFUSAL OF A LETTER FROM ONE SHE WAS INGAGED TO
[_]
The attribution of this poem is questionable.
XCVIII
SONG
The Prodigal's Resolution
[_]
The attribution of this poem is questionable.
I
I am a lusty lively Lad,
Arriv'd at One-and-Twenty;
My Father left me all he had,
Both Gold and Silver plenty.
Now He's in Grave, I will be brave,
The Ladies shall adore me;
I'll Court and Kiss, what hurt's in this?
My Dad did so before me.
II
My Father, to get my Estate,
Though selfish, yet was slavish;
I'll spend it at another rate,
And be as leudly lavish.
From Mad-men, Fools, and Knaves he did,
Litigiously receive it;
If so he did, Justice forbid,
But I to such shou'd leave it.
III
Then I'll to Court, where Venus sport,
Doth revel it in plenty;
And deal with all, both great and small,
From twelve to five and twenty.
In Play-houses I'll spend my Days,
For there are store of Misses;
Ladies, make room, behold I come,
To purchase many Kisses.
XCIX
SONG
The Doubtfull Lover Resolv'd
[_]
The attribution of this poem is questionable.
Fain wou'd I Love, but that I fear,
I quickly shou'd the Willow wear:
Fain wou'd I Marry, but Men say,
When Love is try'd, he will away.
Then tell me, Love, what I shall doe,
To cure these Fears whene'er I Wooe.
The Fair one, she's a mark to all;
The Brown one each doth lovely call;
The Black a Pearl in fair Mens Eyes,
The rest will stoop to any prize.
Then tell me, Love, what I shall doe,
To cure these Fears when e'er I Woe.
Reply
Go, Lover, know it is not I
That wound with fear or jealousie;
Nor do Men feel those [killing] smarts,
Untill they have confin'd their Hearts.
Then if you'll cure your Fears you shall
Love neither Fair, Black, Brown, but all.
C
SONG
The Cavalier's Catch
[_]
The attribution of this poem is questionable.
I
Did you see this Cup of Liquor,
How invitingly it looks;
'Twill make a Lawyer prattle quicker,
And a Scholar burn his Books:
'Twill make a Cripple for to Caper,
And a Dumb Man clearly Sing;
'Twill make a Coward draw his Rapier,
Here's a Health to James our King.
II
If that here be any Round-head,
That refuse this Health to pledge;
I wish he then may be confounded,
Underneath some rotten Hedge,
May the French Disease o'er-take him,
And upon his Face appear,
And his Wife a Cuckold make him,
By some Jovial Cavalier.
CI
SONG
[_]
The attribution of this poem is questionable.
I
Evadne, I must tell you so,
You are too cruel grown;
No smiles nor pity you bestow,
But Death in ev'ry frown.
My Love, though chast and constant too,
Yet no relief can find;
Curst be the Slave that's false to you,
Though you are still unkind.
II
Were you as merciful as fair,
My wishes wou'd obtain;
But love I must, though I despair,
And perish in the pain.
If in an Age I can prevail,
I happy then shall be;
And cou'd I live, I wou'd not fail
To wait Eternally.
