Short Poems

Drue gives thee money, yet thou thankst not him,
But thankst God for him, like a godly man.
Suppose, rude Puritan, thou begst of him,
And he saith God help, who's the godly man?

Thou telst me, Barnzy, Dawson hath a wife:
Thine he hath, I graunt; Dawson hath a wife.

Drue feasts no Puritans; the churles, he saith,
Thanke no men, but eate, praise God, and depart.

If fancy can not erre which vertue guides,
In thee, Laura , then fancy can not erre.

Arthure brooks only those that brooke not him,
Those he most regards, and devoutly serves:
But them that grace him his great brav'ry skornes,
Counting kindnesse all duty, not desert:
Arthure wants forty pounds, tyres ev'ry friend,
But finds none that holds twenty due for him.

Why droopst thou, Trefeild ? Will Hurst the Banker
Make dice of thy bones? By heav'n he can not.
Can not? whats the reason? Ile declare it:
Th' ar all growne so pockie, and so rotten.

Smith , by sute divorst, the knowne adultres
Freshly weds againe; what ayles the mad-cap
By this fury? euen so theeves by frailty
Of their hemp reserv'd, againe the dismall
Tree embrace, againe the fatall halter.

Buffe loves fat vians, fat ale, fat all things,
Keepes fat whores, fat offices, yet all men
Him fat only wish to feast the gallous.

Phoebe all the rights Elisa claymeth,
Mighty rivall, in this only diff'ring
That shees only true, thou only fayned.

What though Harry braggs, let him be noble;
Noble Harry hath not halfe a noble.