Verse > Anthologies > Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. > The Oxford Book of English Verse
  PREVIOUSNEXT  
CONTENTS · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
  
Anonymous. 17th Cent.
  
392. Phillada flouts Me
  
O WHAT a plague is love! 
  How shall I bear it? 
She will inconstant prove, 
  I greatly fear it. 
She so torments my mind         5
  That my strength faileth, 
And wavers with the wind 
  As a ship saileth. 
Please her the best I may, 
She loves still to gainsay;  10
Alack and well-a-day! 
  Phillada flouts me. 
 
At the fair yesterday 
  She did pass by me; 
She look'd another way  15
  And would not spy me: 
I woo'd her for to dine, 
  But could not get her; 
Will had her to the wine— 
  He might entreat her.  20
With Daniel she did dance, 
On me she look'd askance: 
O thrice unhappy chance! 
  Phillada flouts me. 
 
Fair maid, be not so coy,  25
  Do not disdain me! 
I am my mother's joy: 
  Sweet, entertain me! 
She'll give me, when she dies, 
  All that is fitting:  30
Her poultry and her bees, 
  And her goose sitting, 
A pair of mattrass beds, 
And a bag full of shreds; 
And yet, for all this guedes,  35
  Phillada flouts me! 
 
She hath a clout of mine 
  Wrought with blue coventry, 
Which she keeps for a sign 
  Of my fidelity:  40
But i' faith, if she flinch 
  She shall not wear it; 
To Tib, my t'other wench, 
  I mean to bear it. 
And yet it grieves my heart  45
So soon from her to part: 
Death strike me with his dart! 
  Phillada flouts me. 
 
Thou shalt eat crudded cream 
  All the year lasting,  50
And drink the crystal stream 
  Pleasant in tasting; 
Whig and whey whilst thou lust, 
  And bramble-berries, 
Pie-lid and pastry-crust,  55
  Pears, plums, and cherries. 
Thy raiment shall be thin, 
Made of a weevil's skin— 
Yet all 's not worth a pin! 
  Phillada flouts me.  60
 
In the last month of May 
  I made her posies; 
I heard her often say 
  That she loved roses. 
Cowslips and gillyflowers  65
  And the white lily 
I brought to deck the bowers 
  For my sweet Philly. 
But she did all disdain, 
And threw them back again;  70
Therefore 'tis flat and plain 
  Phillada flouts me. 
 
Fair maiden, have a care, 
  And in time take me; 
I can have those as fair  75
  If you forsake me: 
For Doll the dairy-maid 
  Laugh'd at me lately, 
And wanton Winifred 
  Favours me greatly.  80
One throws milk on my clothes, 
T'other plays with my nose; 
What wanting signs are those? 
  Phillada flouts me. 
 
I cannot work nor sleep  85
  At all in season: 
Love wounds my heart so deep 
  Without all reason. 
I 'gin to pine away 
  In my love's shadow,  90
Like as a fat beast may, 
  Penn'd in a meadow. 
I shall be dead, I fear, 
Within this thousand year: 
And all for that my dear  95
  Phillada flouts me. 
 
GLOSS:  guedes] goods, property of any kind.
 
 
CONTENTS · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
  PREVIOUSNEXT  
 
Loading
Click here to shop the Bartleby Bookstore.

Shakespeare · Bible · Strunk · Anatomy · Nonfiction · Quotations · Reference · Fiction · Poetry
© 1993–2014 Bartleby.com · [Top 150] · Subjects · Titles · Authors