Short Poems

Teage has told lyes so long, that when Teage tells
Truth, yet Teages truths are untruths, (nothing else.)

Live with a thrifty, not a needy Fate;
Small shots paid often, waste a vast estate.

Confession twofold is (as Austine sayes,)
The first of sin is, and the next of praise:
If ill it goes with thee, thy faults confesse:
If well, then chant Gods praise with cheerfulnesse.

For second course, last night, a Custard came
To th'board, so hot, as none co'd touch the same:
Furze, three or foure times with his cheeks did blow
Upon the Custard, and thus cooled so:
It seem'd by this time to admit the touch;
But none co'd eate it, 'cause it stunk so much.

They are terribly white:
There is snow on the ground,
And a moon on the snow at night;
The sky is cut by the winter light;
Yet I, who have all these things in ken,
Am struck to the heart by the chiselled white
Of this handful of cyclamen.

Who call him spurious and shoddy
Shall do it o'er my lifeless body.
I heartily invite such birds
To come outside and say those words!

Call on the present day and night for nought,
Save what by yesterday was brought.

Be stirring, man, while yet the day is clear;
The night when none can work fast draweth near.

Take fortune as it falls, as one adviseth:
Yet Heywood bids me take it as it riseth,
And while I think to do as both do teach,
It falls and riseth quite beside my reach.

Yes! at my will I freeze or glow
Loyal—not lost to shame—
A lover and no foe—
Thy light thoughts may disclaim
Alike my fire and snow,—
But scorned by love and hate and fame,
Thy senseless proud works go!