Classic and Contemporary Poetry
GAME, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT First Line: Not from the stern Last Line: Let me alone, I shall not spoil thy game. Subject(s): Competition | ||||||||
NOT from the stern Portch did I lern This Lesson, but from civil Reasons Temple: Nor can thy fine example Outbrave my sober grounds, or prove that I A Heretik am in Gentility. 2 I'needs must tell Thee, Gallant, still Thy hounds & hawks I never yet could see Catch such delight to me, As oft is caught by these two fingers when After a flea in hott persute they runn. 3 Dost thou not know It is not Thou That hawk'st & huntest, but thy hound & hawk? And dost not blush to talk Of generous Sport, when thou their Lord, at least Art the Attendant on thy Bird and Beast! 4 Nay more than so, Their Vassal too Thou art, & whether thorough fair or foule Thy most inslaved Soule Is glad to thrust thee, yf they lead the way: Are these the paths to manly noble Joy? 5 The Griffen, or The Tygre, farr Outvie such Joys, when they without the aid Of hawk or hound have preyd Upon their game, & needed not, like thee, For their wilde pastimes borrowers to be. 6 Is it not fine Delight to win This rare applause when thou in weary sweat Dost from thy sport retreat: Behold, the Man, & hawks & hounds are come Ev'n with a conquerd hare or partridge home. 7 Then, yf you will, Bate the mad hell Of oathes which haunts this trade: yet can I not Be charmd to toile in what Pretendeth not to yeild me other gains Then onely this, My Labour for my Pains. 8 That Sport is known Best to thine own Huntsmen & falkners; yet will never they Unless by ample Pay Be charmd to follow it: 'tis not the Game, No, 'tis thy Money which delighteth them. 9 But noblest things, Princes & Kings Are of these Games the granted Soverains too: And what yf I have no Ambition to play like them? though they Perhaps seek nothing less in Sports than Play. 10 Yet please thy will And play thy fill; But tie not me to this thy Loosnes, who Perchance know what to do. What yf I rather list to hunt, as high As Nimrod in the feilds of History? 11 What yf I take Delight to make My Contemplations resolute wings outstretch Thy hawks sublimest reach? On, on, for me: yf I above it am, Let me alone, I shall not spoil thy game. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RACING CARS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET FIGHT! (HARVARD-DARTMOUTH FOOTBALL GAME, 1908) by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE CHRISTENING OF THE STADIUM by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE ROSCIAD by CHARLES CHURCHILL A COWBOY RACE by JO CULBERTSON DAVIS INTERNAL HARMONY by GEORGE MEREDITH VERS LIBRE OF BASEBALL by WILLIAM A. PHELON TO MY OLD FRIEND by VICTOR GUSTAVE PLARR Γενεθλιακον by JOSEPH BEAUMONT Γενεθλιακον by JOSEPH BEAUMONT A CONCLUSORIE HUMNE TO THE SAME WEEK; & FOR MY FRIEND by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |
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