Lapas attēli
PDF
ePub

Is now from home; you lose your labours quite,
Were you Jove's sons, or had Alcides' might.
They cry'd out, Puss. He told them he was Banks,
That had so often shew'd them merry pranks.
They laugh'd, at his laugh-worthy fate; and past
The triple-head without a sop. At last,
Calling for Rhadamanthus, that dwelt by,
A soap-boiler; and acus him nigh,
Who kept an ale-house; with my little Minos,
An ancient purblind fletcher, with a high nose;
They took them all to witness of their action:
And so went bravely back without protraction.
In memory of which most liquid deed,
The city since hath raised a pyramid;

And I could wish for their eternized sakes,
My Muse had plough'd with his, that sung A-JAX.'

1 My Muse had plough'd with his, that sung A-jax.] Sir John Harington, author of the treatise called, Misacmos, or the Metamorphosis of A-jax. WHAL.

THE END OF THE EPIGRAMS.

THE FOREST.

THE FOREST.] From the folio, 1616. Between this and the poem which now concludes the Epigrams, Whalley foisted in several compositions under that title, which appeared long after the publication of the volume. This was injudiciously done, for as the date of the folio was well known, it tended to confound the idea of time, and to mislead the general reader. Several of the pieces given by Whalley under the head of Epigrams, closed by the author in 1616, were written by him as late as 1630.

[graphic][merged small][merged small]

WHY I WRITE NOT OF LOVE.

JOME act of Love's bound to rehearse,
I thought to bind him in my verse :
Which when he felt, Away, quoth he,
Can poets hope to fetter me?

It is enough, they once did get
Mars and my mother, in their net :
I wear not these my wings in vain.
With which he fled me; and again,
Into my rhymes could ne'er be got
By any art: then wonder not,
That since, my numbers are so cold,
When Love is fled, and I grow old.

[graphic]

II.

TO PENSHURST.1

HOU art not, Penshurst, built to envious show

Of touch or marble; nor canst boast a row

Of polish'd pillars, or a roof of gold:

Thou hast no lantern, whereof tales are told;

To Penshurst.] This place is pleasantly situated near the banks

« iepriekšējāTurpināt »