SLY Merry Andrew, the last Southwark fair (At Bartholomew he did not much appear: So peevish was the edict of the Mayor) At Southwark therefore as his tricks he showed, To please our masters, and his friends the crowd; A huge neat's tongue he in his right hand held: His left was with a good black pudding filled. With a grave look, in this odd equipage, The clownish mimic traverses the stage; Why how now, Andrew! cries his brother droll, To-day's conceit, methinks, is something dull: Come on, Sir, to our worthy friends explain, What does your emblematic worship mean? Quoth Andrew; Honest English let us speak: Your emble -- (what d'ye call't?) -- is heathen Greek. To tongue or pudding thou hast no pretence; Learning thy talent is, but mine is sense. That busy fool I was, which thou art now; Desirous to correct, not knowing how: With very good design, but little wit, Blaming or praising things, as I thought fit. I for this conduct had what I deserved; And dealing honestly, was almost starved. But, thanks to my indulgent stars, I eat; Since I have found the secret to be great. O, dearest Andrew, says the humble droll, Henceforth may I obey, and thou control; Provided thou impart thy useful skill. -- Bow then, says Andrew; and, for once, I will. -- Be of your patron's mind, whate'er he says; Sleep very much; think little; and talk less; Mind neither good nor bad, nor right nor wrong, But eat your pudding, slave; and hold your tongue. A reverend prelate stopped his coach and six, To laugh a little at our Andrew's tricks. But when he heard him give this golden rule, Drive on (he cried); this fellow is no fool. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINCOLN TRIUMPHANT by EDWIN MARKHAM ON THE DEATH OF MR. CRASHAW by ABRAHAM COWLEY ALNWICK CASTLE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK IN A SPRING GROVE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM STANZAS ADDRESSED TO PERCY BYSSHE SHELLY by BERNARD BARTON TO MARY; OCCASIONED BY HER HAVING ENGRAVED ON A SEAL 'FORGET ME NOT' by BERNARD BARTON |