Woman - 6

But all this while I've soundly slept,
And rav'd as Dreamers use:
Fy! what a coil my brains have kept
T' instruct a sawcy Muse
Her own fair Sex t' abuse.
'Tis nothing but an ill Digestion
Has thus brought Women's Fame in question,
Which have been, and still will be what they are,
That is, as chaste, as they are sweet and fair;
And all that has been said
Nothing but ravings of an idle Head,
Troubled with fumes of wine;
For now, that I am broad awake,
I find 'tis all a gross mistake,
Else what a case were his, and thine, and mine?
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.