Facetiae : Musarum deliciae, or, The Muses recreation, conteining ...

Facetiae : Musarum deliciae, or, The Muses recreation, conteining ... Facetiae : Musarum deliciae, or, The Muses recreation, conteining ...

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216 Epigrams.874. On this wise age.The Wise men were but seaven : now we scarce knowSo many fools, the world so wise doth grow.875. On Profuso.Unstayd Profuso hath run thorough all,Almost the story of the Prodigall,Yet swears, he never with the Hogs did dine, /That's true, for none durst trust him with their swine.876. On afire in a Town.One night through all the streets the men did cry,Fire, fire ! at which I wak't and wondred by ;Not that dry wood should burn, but because allDid cry fire, when for water they should call.877. To either Vniversity.Indulgent Mother, and kind Aunt, no whereThroughout all Europe find I such a paire ;From whose fair breasts those milky rivers run,That thousands feed, else thousands were undone.Oh were it not that some are wean'd too young,And some do suck (like Essex Calves) too long.878. On Monsieur Congee.A proper handsome courtly man indeed,And well set out with cloaths, can for a need

2 17Discourse with legs, and quarter congees, andTalk halfe an houre with help of foot and hand ;But when I view'd this Monsieur clean throughout,I found that he was onely Man without.879. To my Reader.My person is another as I list,I now but act the Epigrammatist.880. On Physitians.Physitians are most miserable men,that cannot be deny'd:For they are never truly well, but whenmost men are ill beside.881. On Puff./V^" quarrels in his cups, and then will fight,Is beaten sober ;troth he is served right.882. To Flash.Flash when thou'rt drunk, then in thy own conceitThou'rt valiant, wise, great, honest, rich, discreet.Troth Flash be always drunk ! for well I knowWhen you are sober you are nothing so.883. Wittily wicked.Good wine (they say) makes Vinegar most tart,Thou, the more witty, the more wicked art.

216 Epigrams.874. On this wise age.<strong>The</strong> Wise men were but seaven : now we scarce knowSo many fools, the w<strong>or</strong>ld so wise doth grow.875. On Profuso.Unstayd Profuso hath run th<strong>or</strong>ough all,Almost the st<strong>or</strong>y of the Prodigall,Yet swears, he never with the Hogs did dine, /That's true, f<strong>or</strong> none durst trust him with their swine.876. On afire in a Town.One night through all the streets the men did cry,Fire, fire ! at which I wak't and wondred by ;Not that dry wood should burn, but because allDid cry fire, when f<strong>or</strong> water they should call.877. To either Vniversity.Indulgent Mother, and kind Aunt, no whereThroughout all Europe find I such a paire ;From whose fair breasts those milky rivers run,That thousands feed, else thousands were undone.Oh were it not that some are wean'd too young,And some do suck (like Essex Calves) too long.878. On Monsieur Congee.A proper handsome courtly man indeed,And well set out with cloaths, can f<strong>or</strong> a need

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