Skip to main content
C ORNUTUS saith his wife shall cleanly go:
Cleanly, Cornutus? costly thou wouldst say:
For thou thy substance dost on her bestow,
To clad in gilden gownes a clod of clay:
But who a gold-finch faine would make his wife,
Makes her (perhaps) a wag-taile all her life.
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.