 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
249
PHILLIS.
A Cramboad.
Thus my Head to Heart said,
“Zoons, what is the matter,
“You jump so, and thump so,
“And make such a clatter?”
“I'm wounded, confounded,
“And struck with a Dart,
“From the eyes of fair Phillis,”
Replies my fond Heart.
“Zoons, what is the matter,
“You jump so, and thump so,
“And make such a clatter?”
“I'm wounded, confounded,
“And struck with a Dart,
“From the eyes of fair Phillis,”
Replies my fond Heart.
“A slap, near Left Pap
“They gave as in spite,
“That a Hole, which no soul
“Cou'd perceive, made outright;
“There Cupid—quite stupid,
“His Bellows strait pops in,
“And rais'd—flame that blaz'd
“Like that—Vulcan Shop's in.”
“They gave as in spite,
“That a Hole, which no soul
“Cou'd perceive, made outright;
“There Cupid—quite stupid,
“His Bellows strait pops in,
“And rais'd—flame that blaz'd
“Like that—Vulcan Shop's in.”
“No wonder you thunder,
“And swell so with grief;
“If wise, shun those eyes,
“And seek elsewhere relief.”
“Poh, a F---t,” cries my Heart,
“My flame I'll ne'er smother;
“From her, I'd prefer
“Death, to Life with another.
“And swell so with grief;
“If wise, shun those eyes,
“And seek elsewhere relief.”
“Poh, a F---t,” cries my Heart,
“My flame I'll ne'er smother;
“From her, I'd prefer
“Death, to Life with another.
250
“So witty, so pretty,
“Her sense so refin'd;
“Her mein, like Jove's Queen,
“And such goodness of mind;
“On her breast, that soft nest,
“Wou'd to Heav'n 'twere my home;
“Doubly blest, there I'd rest,
“Nor henceforward wou'd roam.”
“Her sense so refin'd;
“Her mein, like Jove's Queen,
“And such goodness of mind;
“On her breast, that soft nest,
“Wou'd to Heav'n 'twere my home;
“Doubly blest, there I'd rest,
“Nor henceforward wou'd roam.”
So said, away fled
My poor Heart in despair,
And sighing, kept trying
To soften the Fair:
She bouncing, and flouncing,
Show'd nought but disdain;
While shiv'ring, and quiv'ring,
My poor Heart was slain.
My poor Heart in despair,
And sighing, kept trying
To soften the Fair:
She bouncing, and flouncing,
Show'd nought but disdain;
While shiv'ring, and quiv'ring,
My poor Heart was slain.
At most, like a Ghost,
Now I wander about,
While Phillis, her will is,
To jeer, sneer, and flout:
Tho' I talk, eat, and walk,
And on roast beef regale;
Tho' I laugh, sing and quaff—
Yet I'm dead as door nail.
Now I wander about,
While Phillis, her will is,
To jeer, sneer, and flout:
Tho' I talk, eat, and walk,
And on roast beef regale;
Tho' I laugh, sing and quaff—
Yet I'm dead as door nail.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |