Selected quad for the lemma: book_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A15606
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Wits recreations. Selected from the finest fancies of moderne muses
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Herbert, George, 1592-1637.; Marshall, William, fl. 1617-1650, engraver.
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1640
(1640)
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STC 25870; ESTC S120256
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79,337
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324
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never sell 'em at 110 To Lycus That poetry is good and pleasing thou dost cry Yet know'st not when 't is right or when awry Thou know'st great Ovid's censure to abstaine From pleasing good is vertue 's chiefest aime 111 On Charismus Thou hast compos'd a book which neither age Nor future time shall hurt through all their rage For how can future times or age invade That work which perished assoone as made 112 Of one praising my book Harpax doth praise my book I lately writ Saith it is short and sweet and full of wit I knew his drift and sayd be silent 'pray For in good fayth I 've given 'em all away 113 Facilis discensus averni The way to hell is easie th' other day A blind man â—hither quickly found the way 114 Age and Youth Admire not youth despise not age although Some yong are grave most old men children grow 115 On Orus Orus sold wine and then Tobacco now He Aqua-vitae doth his friends allow What ere he had is sold to save his life And now turn'd Pander he doth sell his wife 116 On Women Women are books and men the readers be In whom oft times they great Errata's see Here sometimes wee a blot there wee espy A leafe misplac'd at least a line awry If they are books I wish that my wife were An Almanacke to change her every yeare 117 On Acerra Tobacco hurts the braine phisicians say Doth dull the wit and memory decay Yet feare not thou Acerra for 't will ne'r Hurt thee so much by use as by thy feare 118 On Briso Who private lives lives well no wonder then You do absent you from the sight of men For out of doores you neer by day appeare Since last you lost i' th pillâ—ry your eare 119 On the King of 〈◊〉 picture Who but the halfe of this neat picture drew That it could ne're be fully done well knew 120 To his Mistris Hyperbole of worth should wit suggest My will with Epithites and I invest That shrine but with deserved paraphrase Adulatory poetry would praise And so but staine your woâ—th your vertues or Else none at all shall be my orator 121 B. I. answer to a thiefe bidding him stand Fly villaine hence or be thy coate of steele I le make thy heart my â—razen bâ—llet feele And send that thrice as thievish soul of thine To hell to weare the Devils Vâ—lentine 122 The Theefe 's â—eplie Art thou great Ben or the revived ghost Of famous Shake-spear or som drunken host Who being tipfie with thy muddy beer Dost think thy rimes shall daunt my soul with fear Nay know base slave that I am one of those Can take a purse a swell in verse as prose And when th' art dead write this upon thy herse Here lies a Poet that was robb'd in verse 123 Vpon Clarinda begging a lock of her lovers haire Fairest Clarinda she whom truth cals faire Begg'd my heart of mee and a lock of haire Should I give both said I how should I live The lock I would the heart I would not give For that lestâ—heeving love should steal away Discretion had lock'd up and kept the key As for the locke of haire which lovers use My head laid on her knee I pray'd her chuse Taking her â—izars by a cunniâ—g art First pick'd the lock and then she stole my heart 124 To his Mistris Dearest thy twin'd haires are not threds of gold Nor thine eyes diamonds nor do I hold Thy lips for rubies nor thy cheeks to bee Fresh roses nor thy dugs of Ivory The skin that doth thy dainty body sheath Nor Alablaster is nor dost thou breath Arabian odours these the earth brings forth Compar'd with thine they would impair thy worth Such then are other mistrisses but mine Hath nothing earth but all divine 125 The Answer If earth doth never change nor move There 's nought of earth sure in thy love Sith heavenly bodies with each one Concur in generation And wanting gravitie are light Or in a borrowed lustre bright If meteors and each falling star Of heavenly matter framed are Earth hath my mistrisse but sure thine All heavenly is though not divine 126 On his Mrs. I saw faire Flora take the aire When Pâ—aehus shin'd and it was faire The heavens to allay the heat Sent drops of raine which gently beat The sun retires asham'd to see That he was barr'd from kissing thee Then Bore as took such high disdaine That soon he dri'd those drops again Ah cunning plot and most â—ivine Thus to mix his breath with thine 127 On an houre glasse Do thou consider this small dust Here running in this glasse By atomes mov'd Caâ—st thou beleeve that this the body was Of one that lov'd And in his Mistrisse playing like a fly Turn'd to cinders by her eye Yes and in death as life have it expreâ—t That lovers ashes take no rest 128 On the picture of Cupid in a jewell worn by his Mrs. on her brest Little Cupid enter in and heat Her heart her brest is not thy seat Her brests are fitted to entice Lovers but her heart's ofice Thaw Cupid that it hence forth grow Tender still by answering no. 129 On his Mistris When first I saw thee thou didst sweetly play The gentle theefe and stol'st my heart away Renâ—er me mine againe or leave thy own Two are too much for thee since I have none But if thou wilt not I will swear thou art A sweet-fac'd creature with a double heart 130 On Cupid Cupid hath by his sly and subtill art A certaine arrow shot and peirc't my heart What shall I doe to be reveng'd on love There is but one way and that one I 'le prove I 'le steale his arrowes and will head them new With womens hearts and then they will fly true 131 On a Tobacconist All dainty meats I do defie Which feed men fat as swine Hee is a frug all man indeed That on a leafe can dine He needs no napkin for his hands His fingers ends to wipe That keeps his kitchin in a box And roast 〈◊〉 in a pipe 132 On the same If mans flesh be like swines as it is said The metamorphosis is sooner made Then full-fac'd Gnatho no tobacco take Smoaking your corps lest bacon you do make 133 Another Tom I commend thee above all I know That sold'â—t thy cushion for a pipe of To For now t is like if ere thou study more Thou 'lt sit to 't harder then thou dist before 124 On Tobacco Nature's Idea phisicks rare perfection Cold rheumes expeller and the wits direction O had the gods known thy immortall smack The heavens ere this time had been colored black 135 On a beloved lye I hate a lie and yet a lye did run Of noble Goring's death and Kensington And for that they did not untimely dye I love a lye because that was a ly For had it been an accident of ruth 'T had made me grow in hatred of the truth
I wrong To think 't was learnt from any but thy tongue 61 On Cornuto Cornuto is not jealous of his wife Nor e're mistrust's her too laâ—civious life Aske him the reason why he doth forbeare Hee 'l answer straight it commeth with a fear 62 On a Shrew A froward shrew being blam'd because she show'd Not so much reverence as by right she ow'd Unto her husband she reply'd he might Forbeare complaint of me I do him right His will is mine he would beare rule and I Desire the like onely in sympathy 63 On a youth married to an old woman Fond youth I wonder why thou didst intend To marry her who is so neer her end Thy fortune I dare tell perchance thou 'lt have At supper dainties but in bed a grave 64 On a dying Vsurer With greater grief non doth death entertain Then wretched Chrysalus he sighs a mayn Not that he dyes but 'cause much cost is spent Upon the Sexton and his regiment The joviall ringers and the Curate must Have his fee too when dust is turn'd to dust And which is greater then the former sum Hee 'l pay an angell for a Moor-stone-tomb 65 On a fly in a glasse A fly out of his glasse a guest did take E're with the liquor he his thirst would slake When he had drunk his fill again the fly Into the glasse he put and said though I Love not flyes in my drink yet others may Whose humour I nor like nor will gain-say 66 On Collimus If that Collimus any thing do lend Or dog or horse or hawk unto his friend He to endear the borrowers love the more Saith he ne'r lent it any one before Nor would to any but to him his wife Having observ'd these speeches all her life Behind him forks her fingers and doth cry To none but you I 'd doe this courtesie 67 Auri-sacra fames-quiâ— non A smoothfac'd youth was wedded to an old Decrepit shrew such is the power of gold That love did tye this knot the end will prove The love of money not the god of love 68 On Sexâ—us What great revenews Sextus doth possesse When as his sums of gold are numberlesse What cannot Sextus have I wonder then Sextus cann't live as well as other men 69 Good wits jump Against a post a scholler chanc'd to strike At unawares his head like will to like Good wits will jump quoth he if that be true The title of a block-head is his due 70 On Womens Maskes It seems that Masks do women much disgrace Sith when they weare them they do hide their face 71 On Lepidus and his wife Lepidus married somewhile to a shrew She sick'ned he in jesting wise to shew How glad her death would make him said sweet-heart I pray you e're you sing loath to depart Tell who shall be my second wife and I After your death will wed her instantly She somewhat vext hereat straightway reply'd Then let grim Pluto's daughter be your bride He answer'd wife I would your will obey But that our laws my willingnesse gain-say For he who Pluto's sister takes to wife Cannot his daughter too upon my life 72 Vpon a pair of Tongs The burnt child dreads the fire if this be true Who first invented tongs it's fury knew 73 On Celsus his works Celsus to please himselfe a book hath writ It seem's so for there 's few that buyeth it He is no popular man it thereby seems Sith men condemn what he praise worthy deems Yet this his wisdome and his book prefer Disprais'd by all they think both singular 74 The Devill and the Fryar The Devill was once deceived by a fryar Who though he sold his soul cheated the buyer The devill was promist if he would supply The Fryar with coyn at his necessity When all the debts he ow'd discharg'd were quite The Devill should have his soul as his by right The Devill defray'd all scores payd all at last Demanded for his due his soul in haste The Fryar return'd this answer if I ow You any debts at all then you must know I am indebted still if nothing be Due unto you why do you trouble me 75 To Phillis Aske me not Phillis why I do refuse To kisse thee as the most of gallants use For seeing oft thy dog to fawn and skip Upon thy lap and joyning lip to lip Although thy kisses I full fain would crave Yet would I not thy dog my rivall have 76 Of Charidemâ—s Although thy neighbour have a handsom horse Matchlesse for comly shape for hue and course And though thy wife thou knowest ill-shapen â—e Yet Charidemus praises mightily His ugly wife and doth the horse dispraise How subtilly the fox his engin layes For he desires his neighbours horse to buy And sell his wife to any willingly 77 Of Clytus Clytus the barber doth occasion fly Because 't is bal'd and he gains nought thereby 78 On Balbus Balbus a verse on Venus boy doth scan But ere 't was finiâ—â—'d Cupid's grown a man 79 On Comptulus I wonder'd Comptulus how thy long hair In comely curles could show so debonair And every hair in order be when as Thou could'st not trim it by a looking-glasse Nor any barber did thy tresses pleat 'T is strange but Monsieur I conceive the feat When you your hair do kemb you off it take And order 't as you please for fashions sake 80 On Gellius In building of his house Gellius hath spent All his revenews and his ancient rent Aske not a reason why Gellius is poor His great house hath turn'd him out of door 81 To Ponticus At supper-time will Poutus visit me I 'd rather have his room then companie But if him from me I can no wayes fright I 'd have him visit me each fasting night 82 On a Pot-poet What lofty verses Caelâ—s writes it is But when his head with wine oppressed is So when great drops of rain fall from the skyes In standing pools huge bubles will arise 83 On Onellus Thou never supp'st abroad Onellus true For at my home I 'm sure to meet with you 84 On Wine What must we then on muddy tap-lash swill Neglecting sack which makes the poet's quill To thunder forth high raptures such as when Sweet-tongued Ovid erst with his smooth pen In flourishing Rome did write frown god of winâ— To see how most men disesteem thy Vines 85 On beere Is no juice pleasing but the grapes is none So much beloved doth perfection Onely conjoyn in wine or doth the well Of Aganippe with this liquor swell That Poâ—ts thus affect it shall we crown A meer exâ—tique and contemn our own Our native liquor haunt who list the grape He more esteem our Oate whose reed shall make An instrument to warble forth her praise Which shall survive untill the date of daies And eke invoke some potent power divine To patronize her worth above the vine 86 On a vaunting Poetaster Câ—cilius boasts his verses worthy bee To be engraven on a Cypresse