CAST your caps and cares away! This is the beggars' holiday: At the crowning of our king, Thus we ever dance and sing: Be it peace, or be it war, Here at liberty we are, And enjoy our peace and rest, To the field we are not prest; Nor are called into the town, To be troubled with a gown: All which happiness he brags, He doth owe unto his rags. In the world, look out and see, Where so gay a prince as he? Where the nation lives so free, And so merry as do we? Hang all offices, we cry, And your masters, too defy! When the subsidy's increased, We are not a penny 'sess'd: Nor will one e'er go to law With a beggar for a straw: All which happiness he brags, He doth owe unto his rags. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GRAVE OF LOVE by THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 1 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE MOTHER by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE SHE BEGINING TO STUDY PHISICK ... FALLS INTO A DEGRESSION ON ANATOMY by JANE BARKER SONNETS OF MANHOOD: SONNET 24. BALCOMBE FOREST by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |