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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

VIRGIDEMIAE: BOOK 1: SATIRE 1 by JOSEPH HALL

First Line: NOR LADIES WANTON LOUE, NOR WANDRING KNIGHT
Last Line: TO TELL OUR GRANT HIS BANKS ARE LEFT FORLORE.
Subject(s): LOVE; MUSES; POETRY & POETS;
Nor Ladies wanton loue, nor wandring knight,
Legend I out in rymes all richly dight.
Nor fright the Reader with the Pagan vaunt
Of mightie Mahound, or great Termagaunt.
Nor list I sonnet of my Mistresse face,
To paint some Blowesse with a borrowed grace.
Nor can I bide to pen some hungry @3Scene@1
For thick-skin eares, and vndiscerning eyne.
Nor euer could my scornfull Muse abide
With Tragick shooes her ankles for to hide.
Nor can I crouch, and writhe my fauning tayle
To some great Patron, for my best auaile.
Such hunger-staruen, trencher Poetry,
Or let it neuer liue, or timely die:
Nor vnder euery banke, and euery tree,
Speake rymes vnto my oten Minstralsie
Nor caroll out so pleasing liuely laies,
As mought the @3Graces@1 moue my mirth to praise.
@3Trumpet, and reeds, and socks, and buskins fine
I them bequeath:@1 whose statues wandring twine
Of Yuy, mixt with Bayes, circlen around
Their liuing Temples likewise @3Laurell-bound.@1
Rather had I albee in carelesse rymes,
Check the mis-ordred world, and lawlesse times.
Nor need I craue the muses mid-wifry,
To bring to light so worth-lesse Poetry:
Or if mee list, what baser Muse can bide,
To sit and sing by @3Grantaes@1 naked side.
They haunt the tyded @3Thames@1 and salt @3Medway,@1
Ere since the fame of their late Bridall day.
Nought haue we here but willow-shaded shore,
To tell our @3Grant@1 his banks are left forlore.



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