BUT who has Witt enough to tell Me what it is? Thou mayst as well Hope Proteus's visage to express As her wilde face, since dubious she Truly to be herself, any thing els must be. 2 Now old, now young again; now low, And now as high; Now corsive, now Gratious with tickling Lenity; Proud Spanish now, now smug & sleek French, portly Roman now, now most delicious Greek. 3 Sometimes her looser garb is Prose, Sometimes in verse Straitlac'd she goes; Now she as low as hell doth curse, Now swear as high as heavn: her paint Shews her sometimes a Devil, & few times a Saint. 4 Well is she tutord how to rant, Drink, drab, & play And fear no want Though more then all she casts away. Me thinks tis worth the while to see Whether she would not prove too chargable for me. 5 Why she may easly spend a Man His soule & all. Sure yf I can I'l save that charge: Let the World call Me as they list: whats that to me? Tis best, and I had rather Wise than Witty be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FACADE: 27. WHEN SIR BEELZEBUB by EDITH SITWELL I HEARD YOUR SOLEMN-SWEET PIPES by WALT WHITMAN HUMAN PLEASURE OR PAIN by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS THE IDLE SINGER: REACTION by QUINTIN BONE WHEN I WAS A REFUGEE by BEATRICE JEAN K. BOROFF HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 24 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH YOUTH'S AMBITION by ANNA GRACE BOYLES TO THE HORSE BLACK EAGLE WHICH I RODE AT THE BATTLE ZAMORNA by EMILY JANE BRONTE |