Poems, chiefly pastoral By John Cunningham. The second edition. With the Addition of several pastorals and other pieces |
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Another.
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 | Poems, chiefly pastoral |  |
252
Another.
To Wasteall, whose eyes were just closing in death,
Doll counted the chalks on the door;
In peace, cry'd the wretch, let me give up my breath,
And Fate will soon rub out my score.
Doll counted the chalks on the door;
In peace, cry'd the wretch, let me give up my breath,
And Fate will soon rub out my score.
Come, bailiffs, cries Doll, (how I'll hamper this cheat!)
Let the law be no longer delay'd,
I never once heard of that fellow call'd Fate,
And by G---d he shan't die 'till I'm paid.
Let the law be no longer delay'd,
I never once heard of that fellow call'd Fate,
And by G---d he shan't die 'till I'm paid.
| Poems, chiefly pastoral | |