Now how shall I do with my love and my pride; Dear Dick, give me counsel, if friendship has any; Pr'ythee purge, or let blood, surly Richard replied, And forget the coquette in the arms of your Nanny. While I pleaded with passion how much I deserved, For the pains and the torments of more than a year; She looked in an almanack, whence she observed, That it wanted a fortnight to Barthol'mew-fair. My Cowley and Waller how vainly I quote, While my negligent judge only hears with her eye! In a long flaxen wig, and embroidered new coat, Her spark saying nothing talks better than I. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WORDS INTO WORDS WON'T GO by CLARENCE MAJOR OF ANY OLD MAN by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE USES OF POETRY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS COLORADO MORTON'S RIDE by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) LEPANTO by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON GOOD NIGHT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR COMFORT [TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE] by ROBERT HERRICK |