A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

(avery) #1

Jidu.n Df a.{~.


MT liege, t did deny no prisoners.
Bat, I remember, when the fight wu dol!e,
wn~n I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
Brea.thleu and faint, leaning upon my aword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dresa'd ;
Freab ae e. bridegroom ; alld his chin, new reap'd,
Bhow'd 1iko a atubblo•land 1\t hArVest-home ;
He Wllll perfum&l like 1\ milliner;
And 'twiXt hill finger and bia thumb he hel!
A pounoet-box, which, ever and anon,
He gave bill noee, e.nd t.ook't e. way again ;-
Who therewith angry 1 when it next came there_,
Took it in snuff' :-ana still he smiled and talk'a:
And, ae the soldiers bore dead bQdiea by,
He called them-untaught knavt~~, unmannerly,
To bring a alovenly unhandsome coree
:Betwixt the wind an<J hi a nobility.
With many holiday and lady te.rma
He queation'd me ; amon~t the rest demanded
.My prisone1"8, in your m&Jeaty'a behalf.
I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold,
To b~ so peater'd with a popinjay,
Out of my grief and my impatience,
Anawer'd neglectingly, I know not what;
He should, or he should not ;-for he made me m!kl
To soe him ahine 80 brisk, and smell 80 trWeet,
And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman,
or gun'\ and drnms,and wounds (God aave the IIW'k !)
Ani! telling me the sovereign'et thing on earth
Waa parmaceti for o.n inward bruiae;
And that it wna great pity, 110 it waa,
This villanou11 saltpetr1! shonld be digg'd
Out or the bowels of the hPJ"IIlleaa earth,
Which many a good tall fellow bad destroy'd
So cownrdly ; snd but Cor these vile glllll,
He wonlfl himself have been a 110ldier.
BKAJaSPL\B&

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