Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DIALOGUE, BETWEEN CRAB AND GILLIAN by THOMAS D'URFEY

First Line: WHERE OXEN DO LOW AND APPLES DO GROW
Last Line: AND SO YOU MAY RING THE BELLS.
Subject(s): CONVERSATION; FAREWELL; HUNTING; PLAGUE; TOWNS; PARTING; HUNTERS;
@3Crab@1 WHERE oxen do low and apples do grow,
Where corn is sown and grass is mown,
Where pigeons do fly and rooks nestle high,
Fate give me for life a place;
@3Gill@1. Where hay is well cocked and udders are stroked,
Where duck and drake cry quack, quack, quack,
Where turkeys lay eggs and sows suckle pigs,
Oh, there I would pass my days.
@3Crab@1 On nought we will feed
@3Gill@1. But what we do breed;
@3Crab@1 And wear on our backs
@3Gill@1. The wool of our flocks.
@3Crab@1 And though linen feel
@3Gill@1. Rough, spun from the wheel,
'Tis cleanly, though coarse it comes.
@3Crab@1 Town follies and cullies, and Mollies and Dollies,
For ever adieu and for ever;
@3Gill@1. And beaus that in boxes lie nuzzling their doxies,
In wigs that hang down to their bums.

@3Crab@1 Adieu, the Pall Mall, the Park and Canal,
St. James's Square and flaunters there,
The gaming-house too, where high dice and low
Are managed by all degrees.
@3Gill@1. Goodbye to the knight was bubbled last night,
That keeps a blowze and beats his spouse,
And now in great haste, to pay what he lost,
Sends home to cut down the trees.
@3Crab@1 And hey for the lad
@3Gill@1. Improves ev'ry clod,
@3Crab@1 That ne'er set his hand
@3Gill@1. To bill or to bond,
@3Crab@1 Nor barters his flocks
@3Gill@1. For wine or the pox,
To chouse him of half his days;
@3Crab@1 But fishing and fowling, hunting and bowling,
His pastimes are ever and ever,
@3Gill@1. Whose lips when ye buss 'em
Smell like the bean-blossom;
Ah, he 'tis shall have my praise.

@3Crab@1 To taverns where grow sour apple and sloe
A long adieu, and farewell too
The house of the great, whose cook has no meat
And butler can't quench my thirst;
@3Gill@1. Goodbye to the Change, where rantipoles range,
Farewell cold tea and ratafie,
Hyde Park too, where Pride in coaches will ride,
Although they be choked with dust.
@3Crab@1 Farewell the law-gown,
@3Gill@1. The plague of the town,
@3Crab@1 And friends of the Crown
@3Gill@1. Cried up or run down.
@3Crab@1 And city jackdaws,
@3Gill@1. That fain would make laws
To measure by yards and ells;
@3Crab@1 Stockjobbers and swabbers, and toasters and roasters,
For ever adieu and for ever;
@3Gill@1. We find what you're doing and home we're a-going,
And so you may ring the bells.



Home: PoetryExplorer.net