Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE AUTHOR'S MOCK SONG TO MARK ANTONY, by JOHN CLEVELAND Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: When as the night-raven sung pluto's matins Last Line: As this foul gypsy quean. Subject(s): Antony, Marc (83-30 B.c.); Marcus Antonius; Anthony, Mark | ||||||||
WHEN as the night-raven sung Pluto's matins And Cerberus cried three amens at a howl, When night-wandering witches put on their pattens, Midnight as dark as their faces are foul; Then did the furies doom That the nightmare was come. Such a misshapen groom Puts down Su. Pomfret clean. Never did incubus Touch such a filthy sus As this foul gypsy quean. First on her gooseberry cheeks I mine eyes blasted, Thence fear of vomiting made me retire Unto her bluer lips, which when I tasted, My spirits were duller than Dun in the mire. But then her breath took place Which went an usher's pace And made way for her face! You may guess what I mean. Never did, &c. Like snakes engendering were platted her tresses, Or like the slimy streaks of ropy ale; Uglier than Envy wears, when she confesses Her head is periwigged with adder's tail. But as soon as she spake I heard a harsh mandrake. Laugh not at my mistake, Her head is epicene. Never did, &c. Mystical magic of conjuring wrinkles; Feeling of pulses, the palmistry of hags; Scolding out belches for rhetoric twinkles; With three teeth in her head like to three gags: Rainbows about her eyes And her nose, weather-wise; From them the almanac lies, Frost, Pond, and Rivers clean. Never did incubus Touch such a filthy sus As this foul gypsy quean. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ORGANIZATION MEN IN AFFLUENT SOCIETY by KENNETH REXROTH TO MARK ANTHONY IN HEAVEN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ANTONY AND [OR, TO] CLEOPATRA by WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE THE FESTAL HOUR by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE LAST BANQUET OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA; AN ANECDOTE FROM PLUTARCH by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON ANTONY IN EGYPT by ARTHUR PETERSON |
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