Classic Poem

Upon Madam Severa

I shall not spare when I severa praise
For I then write of Rosemary and Bayes
Nor must the Sun shine but the Heavens all vow
To Sympathise her sullen Lowry brow
Smiles all call'd in noe cheerefullness once dare
In such ore shadowed night-peice to have share
But when thick clowdes open too much of light
Ile borrow for my Inke the darkest night
Where Batts and Skreech owles from their wings shall Lend
Me velom and a Pencell to Commend
Her rare endowments that are inward spent
Upon her selfe in fostering Discontent
Yet Like t'a bird new scapt out of a cage.
They'r fledg And breake sometimes int'open rage
Bring her a child to Tyrannise upon
And then the Rods her recreation
Which on the suffering buttocke she employes
Untill they blush to see her cruelties
Then if a Servant man or maid doe err
She proves both Divell and the cungerer
And what her wand or fist cannot effect
Their sure to have it from her Dialect
For that small weapon faemales armd withall
Which was the cause of Tantaluses fall
She wilds soe nymbly and soe sharply whets
That all mens valours seeme but counterfetts
To her high Prowes; thus she conquest brings
By hooke, by hand, by tongue as snakes by stings.