In a costly palace, when the brave gallants dine, They have store of good venison, with old canary wine. With singing and music to heighten the cheer; Coarse bits, with grudging, are the pauper's best fare. In a costly palace Youth is still carest By a train of attendants which laugh at my young Lord's jest ; In a wretched workhouse the contrary prevails; Does Age begin to prattle ?—no man hearkeneth to his tales. In a costly palace if the child with a pin Do but chance to prick a finger, straight the doctor is called in; In a wretched workhouse men are left to perish For want of proper cordials, which their old age might cherish. In a costly palace Youth enjoys his lust; In a wretched workhouse Age, in corners thrust, Thinks upon the former days, when he was well to do, Had children to stand by him, both friends and kinsmen too. In a costly palace Youth his temples hides With a new-devised peruke that reaches to his sides; In a wretched workhouse Age's crown is bare, In peace, as in war, 'tis our young gallants' pride, That none to do them injury may have pretence; HYPOCHONDRIACUS. By myself walking, On my untoward fate, Alone sufficiently, Black thoughts continually So in like fashions Dim cogitations Follow and haunt me, In my heart festering, Thy dreams ominous." Fierce Anthropophagi, What sacred St. Anthony, Hobgoblins, Lemures, Dreams of Antipodes, Causing confusions; Figments heretical, Scruples fantastical, Abaddon vexeth me, Mahu perplexeth me, Lucifer teareth me Jesu! Maria! liberate nos ab his diris tentationibus Inimici. A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO. MAY the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammering verse, If I can a passage see In this word perplexity, Or a language to my mind, (Still the phrase is wide or scant) To take leave of thee, GREAT PLANT! Half my love, or half my hate: That, whichever thing I show, The plain truth will seem to be, And the passion to proceed More from a mistress than a weed. Sooty retainer to the vine, Than reclaimed lovers take 'Gainst women: thou thy siege dost lay While thou suckest the labouring breath Thou in such a cloud dost bind us, That our worst foes cannot find us, And ill fortune, that would thwart us, While each man, through thy heightening steam, Does like a smoking Etna seem, And all about us does express (Fancy and wit in richest dress) A Sicilian fruitlessness. Thou through such a mist dost show us, Due to reasonable creatures, Bacchus we know, and we allow |