Poem by Alexander Brome

A Catch

LEt's leave off our labour, and now let's go play;
For this is our time to be jolly;
Our plagues and our plaguers are both fled away;
To nourish our griefs is but folly.
He that won't drink and sing,
Is a Traytor to's King;
And so's he that does not look twenty years younger,
We'l look blithe and trim,
With rejoycing at him
That is the restorer, and will be the Prolonger,
Of all our felicity and health,
The joy of our hearts, and increase of our wealth;
'Tis he brings our trading, our trading brings riches,
Our riches brings honours, at which every mind itches,
And our riches bring Sack, & our Sack brings us joy,
And our joy makes us leap, and sing Vive le Roy.

1. To his Mistress (LAdy you'l wonder when you see)
2. The Leveller
3. The Saints Encouragement
4. Copernicus
5. The Reformation

Madison Cawein A Catch ("When roads are mired with ice and snow")

Print

1244 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version